I wake up with a start, my heart racing as panic briefly floods through me. Have I slept too long? Did something happen? The weight of exhaustion is heavy, but instinct kicks in, pushing me upright in bed. I rub at my eyes and blink into the soft glow of lamplight spilling across the room.
I'm alone in the bed.
The emptiness beside me sends a small wave of fear coursing through my veins. My eyes dart around, scanning every corner until they settle on the sofa near the window.
And there they are.
Thorne is lying back, stretched out on the couch, his broad chest rising and falling with the deep, steady rhythm of sleep. Nestled against him is Mimi, her tiny body sprawled on his chest, one hand clutching a fistful of his shirt as if claiming him entirely. Thorne's large hand is draped protectively over her back, shielding her even in sleep.
