Lying in bed with Dean, sleep still wouldn’t come. Her eyes stayed fixed on Sam, who had quickly drifted off in his own bed. Even in sleep, he looked breathtaking. His breathing remained steady, and there was an almost angelic calmness to him. He barely moved, peaceful and undisturbed.

The way she was watching him, as if he were a sight to behold, didn’t go unnoticed. Dean, still awake, lay behind her and observed in silence. Admiration in her gaze toward Sam sent an unfamiliar feeling stirring deep inside—a mix of jealousy and possessiveness. It didn’t sit well. Something had to be done about it.

Shifting closer, the space that had been given was now gone. In one swift movement, his strong arms wrapped tightly around her waist, pulling her closer until firm pressure from his chest was felt against her back.

His grip tightened slightly before warm breath brushed against her neck, followed by a low whisper. “So precious… The way you look at Sam—it makes me a little jealous.