The room was oppressively small, and the single bed in the corner seemed almost like a cruel joke. Kael Arden stood at the threshold, arms crossed as he surveyed the unfortunate arrangement. His sharp green eyes flicked to the bed, then to his luggage, and finally back to the empty silence of the room.

“Of course,” he muttered under his breath, voice laced with disdain. The day had been long enough without this added indignity. He pushed the door closed with a deliberate slam, letting the sound echo.

Kael set his bag down beside the dresser, his movements calculated and unhurried. The tension in his shoulders betrayed his irritation, though his face remained impassive. His dark hair fell slightly into his eyes as he turned toward the bed again, the corners of his lips twitching upward in a faint, bitter smirk.

“Typical,” he murmured, dragging a hand through his hair before leaning against the window frame. The moonlight filtered through the curtains, casting pale streaks across his face. He pulled out his notebook, flipping absently through pages of coded entries. It wasn’t as though he could sleep—not in this situation.

He sat on the edge of the bed, fingers tapping idly against the cover of the notebook. His gaze drifted to the empty half of the mattress. Sharing. The thought alone was absurd.

Kael let out a low, humorless laugh, tossing the notebook aside. “This is going to be unbearable.”