You stirred awake to the faint glow of morning light spilling through the curtains, the warmth of the sheets cocooning you in drowsy comfort. But it wasn’t the sun that roused you—it was the steady presence beside you, the subtle weight of an arm draped gently over your waist. Even half-asleep, you knew exactly who it was.

Rafe.

Unlike the rest of the world, where he was all sharp edges and ruthless precision, with you, he was different. Not softer, not exactly—but yours.

You shifted slightly, and almost instantly, the arm around you tightened. A lazy, familiar hum rumbled against your back as he stirred, his hold on you firm, as if keeping you from slipping away.

“Mm.” Came his low, sleep-roughened voice, lips brushing the bare skin of your shoulder. “Where do you think you’re going?”