Trap

El-Kharis awoke first, his eyes fluttering open to the dim light filtering in from the high, arched windows. The night had long passed, and the soft morning glow barely touched the corners of the vast room. He blinked, his gaze immediately drawn to the woman lying beside him.

Esteria's delicate features were bathed in the soft light, her face peaceful, her breath even. She looked different in sleep, softer—unguarded. A calmness filled the room, and for a moment, he allowed himself to linger in this quiet serenity. His hand traced the length of her arm with a feather-light touch, and a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. It had been centuries since he had experienced this—sharing space with someone who made him feel something other than the constant weight of responsibility.