Elara woke to the sound of snow sliding off the roof.For several seconds, she had no idea where she was.The room was dim, washed in the pale gray light of early morning. The fire had burned low in the hearth, leaving a faint orange glow beneath ash. Somewhere outside, wind moved through the trees with a soft, steady hush.She blinked.Then remembered.Darius’s room.The couch beneath her.The blanket was pulled up to her chin.Her neck ached faintly, but not as badly as it would have if she had fallen asleep in the chair. That, she decided, counted as a victory.Across the room, Darius was still asleep.That held her still more than anything else.She had seen him tired before. Exhausted, even. She had seen him with one hand braced against a table, eyes shadowed from too many hours spent carrying problems other people handed him.But this was different.Asleep, he looked younger.Not harmless. Never that. Even half-buried beneath blankets with one shoulder bandaged, there was still
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