Chapter 7. They Won’t Bite

Mira stirred beneath the sheets, the weight of sleep clinging to her limbs like fog. Her body ached in that pleasant, heavy way that comes after long tension—the kind that suggests not danger, but emotional exhaustion. She blinked, confused by the light seeping through the curtains. Sunlight? Already?

She groaned softly, rolling to check the small brass clock on the table beside her bed.

Nearly noon.

She sat up, rubbing at her eyes, her heart skipping. She’d meant to wake hours ago. The events of the previous night—the walk to the grove, Kaelen’s sudden appearance, his fingers brushing hers again—all came rushing back like a dream she didn’t want to admit she’d remembered too vividly.

She’d barely made it back inside before collapsing into bed, and clearly, her body had taken the opportunity to claim every spare ounce of rest it could get.

Mira rose slowly, stretching her arms over her head until her back popped. Then she trudged toward the bathroom. A