The Last Stand (15)

Linsley tightened his hold on Aurielle, his chin coming to rest lightly atop her head. "Sweet dreams, Queen," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

It wasn't just a statement—it was a promise. No matter what chaos awaited them outside, he would make sure she could always find peace here.

Aurielle shifted again, nestling closer to him as if drawn by his words even in sleep. Her lips curved into a faint smile, and her even breathing lulled him further.

The tension in Linsley's shoulders melted away as he finally closed his eyes. Their breaths fell into a synchronized rhythm, a silent testament to the unshakable trust that bound them together.

At dawn, soft streaks of light filtered through the cracks in the boarded-up window, painting the room in hues of gold.

Aurielle was the first to stir, her violet eyes fluttering open.