Angela woke to the faint sound of rain tapping against the window. Her body ached with exhaustion, her mind even more so. The events of the past few days had been like a storm battering her from every side, leaving her unmoored. She felt like a trapped animal, caught between warring forces she didn't fully understand.
Her meeting with Michael had only deepened the pit of confusion she'd been sinking into, and now Edmund, steady, commanding, dangerously magnetic, Edmund was another storm she couldn't escape.
Edmund was awake, propped up against the headboard, his bare chest illuminated by the muted morning light. His dark eyes were fixed on her, unreadable and intense. There was a stillness to him that she couldn't quite name. He didn't need to raise his voice to dominate a room, and now, his silence was suffocating.
"Morning," he said softly, his voice deep and steady, breaking the silence.