Daemon stepped into the dimly lit estate, the soft, haunting melody of Taylor Swift's "Wildest Dreams" playing through the house speakers.
The atmosphere felt quiet, cold even.
As he walked toward the dining room, his eyes caught sight of the dinner set out on the table—a meal that had gone cold long before he arrived.
His sharp gaze swept the room before landing on the couch where Aurora lay, fast asleep.
Daemon stood motionless by the couch, the dim light casting shadows over his sharp features.
Aurora lay there, her body curled up tightly, arms wrapped around herself.
She looked fragile, serene—so beautiful, it made his chest tighten.
It was the way she looked when she wasn't awake, when she wasn't fighting or resisting.
It brought back memories of the time she spent in a coma, the time when she was completely his.
He liked her best like this.
Sleeping, still, untouched by the chaos of the world.
