(Ayra's POV)
I stirred awake slowly, blinking as the light above me shone directly into my eyes.
For a brief second, I didn't remember where I was.
The faint scent of spices still lingered in the air, and my head rested against something warm and solid.
Then I realized I was curled up on Darius' couch, wrapped in a cozy throw blanket that smelled like him.
But where was he?
I sat up, running a hand through my tangled hair, and looked around.
The apartment was quiet, too quiet. My eyes darted toward the front door when I caught the faint sound of voices outside.
Low, tense murmurs. One of them was definitely Darius.
I stood, my bare feet brushing against the cool floor.
The events of the day flooded my mind all at once—the courtroom, the betrayal, the rage, the warmth of Darius' embrace, my foolish attempt to kiss the pain away.
I bit my lip, my heart thudding with unease as I approached the door.
