– Amara's POV (Continued)
His heartbeat—steady now—was a lullaby I didn't want to admit I needed. The silence wasn't cold anymore. It was warm, like a blanket we both pretended not to pull tighter.
Still resting on his chest, I asked quietly, "Why did you come to my chamber tonight, Chris?"
He didn't answer immediately. His hand brushed a loose strand of hair from my cheek before he spoke.
"Because I can't sleep when you're upset with me. And… because this is your place—but you're my home."
My eyes burned.
Damn him. He always said the right things—just when I'm ready to hate him.
I sat up, leaning on my elbow, looking down at him.
"You know I could've thrown you out," I said, voice teasing but laced with truth.
"You've thrown heavier things than me," he smirked, glancing at the shattered glass still swept neatly in a corner.
"You bled that day."
"I did."
"And you still came back tonight?"
He nodded. "Because I'd rather bleed beside you than sleep without you."
I leaned in and kissed him—not soft, not rushed. Just firm and present, like I was stamping myself into his soul.
When I pulled back, his hand gripped my wrist gently.
"No more games," I said.
"No more secrets," he returned.
We lay back down, this time closer than before. Legs tangled. Arms wrapped. No space left for doubt.
I closed my eyes.
But before sleep took me, I whispered, "Tomorrow, I want a name."
He stirred slightly. "A name?"
"For whoever still dares to move against us from within this castle. Because now, I'm not asking permission. I'm taking charge."
His hand tightened around mine.
"I'll give you the list."
I smiled, drifting off.
Now we were truly one—and soon, the castle would feel it.
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