Dawn Confessions and Lingering Doubts

VANESSA

I jerked awake, my heart hammering against my ribs, skin slick with sweat and something else entirely. The dream had been so vivid—Roman and me in the grotto, his hands exploring my body, his lips on my skin. The way he'd looked at me with such raw hunger.

Then the panic. The memory of his cold dismissal years ago. My feet carrying me away from him as fast as they could.

I pressed my palms against my eyes, trying to banish the conflicting images. My body still hummed with need, but my mind was a battlefield of longing and fear.

Sleep wasn't coming back. I glanced at the clock—4:37 AM.

With a sigh, I slipped out of bed and padded to the balcony of my guest room in the Moonstone packhouse. The cool night air prickled my skin as I leaned against the railing.