The first thing I became aware of was warmth—a soft, steady warmth pressed against my chest. It was the kind of warmth that seeped into your skin and lulled you into a sense of safety.
My head lolled slightly to the side as I blinked myself awake, the dim morning light filtering through the cave's opening.
The faint glow cast long shadows against the uneven walls, illuminating the jagged contours of stone and the faint shimmer of dew clinging to the moss. The cool air nipped at my exposed skin, contrasting sharply with the heat radiating from the person in my arms.
My muscles were sore from sitting upright all night, and my back ached as if I had been molded into the unforgiving rock beneath us. The stiffness in my neck protested as I tilted my head, trying to stretch out the kinks. But that wasn't what caught my attention.
Layla was in my arms.
