intensity

Kael stirred awake in his own bed, the sheets faintly warm beside him, the only trace of Liss's presence from their night of electric surrender.

His hazel eyes blinked open, heavy with sleep, piecing together the quiet transfer—she must have carried him back in the early morning, before Freya or Rhea could catch them tangled in her bed.

The villa's silence was a fragile shield, the faint scent of lavender and sweat clinging to him, a reminder of their shared intensity.

He stretched, his muscles groaning, the weight of the day ahead buzzing in his mind.

He needed to check on the twins, see if anyone had embraced their maid role or were still plotting rebellion, but more urgently, it had been too long since he'd connected with Freya or Rhea.

Their fiery and frosty presences were vital, and he couldn't afford to let them drift.