Samantha woke to warmth.
Not the gentle, familiar heat of Callum's body curved protectively around her, or the lazy weight of Marcus's arm slung across her waist, or Kai's restless presence at her back like a living furnace that never truly slept.
This warmth was… different.
Too even. Too calm.
She opened her eyes slowly, blinking against the dim gray light filtering through the curtains. Morning, by the look of it. The house was quiet in that rare way it only ever was when Nova was somewhere else—either deeply asleep or not in the room at all.
Samantha frowned.
Nova always woke up first.
She shifted, expecting the usual chorus of reactions—Marcus tightening instinctively, Kai grumbling something half-coherent, Callum stirring with that sharp, alert awareness he never fully lost even in sleep.
None of it happened.
Marcus was sitting up.
