Lyra's POV
Dawn crept through the bedroom curtains, casting soft shadows across the walls. I had been lying here for some time already, my head tilted on the pillow, studying the man beside me.
His breathing came in steady waves. One muscled arm stretched above his head, fingers relaxed in slumber, his powerful frame sprawled with unconscious grace. Sleep had erased the commanding edge he wore like armor throughout his waking hours. Gone was the calculating intensity from his dark eyes. Gone was the tension that usually held his jaw tight. His lips were parted slightly, thick lashes creating delicate crescents against his cheekbones. In this unguarded moment, he appeared almost vulnerable. Peaceful.
