Morning came slowly.
Inside the master suite of the Black House estate, the air was filtered, chilled, and heavy with the silent hum of high-grade kinetic shielding.
Adrian woke with his hand already reaching for the micro-vibrational blade on the nightstand.
He didn't need to turn his head to know somebody was in his room.
He could feel a presence—a dense, gravitational pull in the room.
When he turned he was met with the picture of Lucian sitting on a chair, feets crossed, looking out the floor to ceiling window, with the view of a clear lake.
Adrian sat up slowly, the silk sheets sliding off his shoulders.
He didn't offer a morning greeting.
"If you're checking whether I panic in my sleep, I don't," Adrian said, his voice raspy.
Lucian didn't look at him immediately.
"I know."
A beat of silence stretched between them, thick with the unsaid.
Lucian finally turned his head, his gaze lingering on Adrian's neck.
