Lyra felt uneasy because the night before, she had woken up in the middle of the night, startled to find Owen standing beside her bed.
Now, she couldn't close her eyes, afraid he might come again. And just as she feared, the door slid open—carefully and he stepped inside, moving closer to her bed, one cautious step at a time.
Lyra trembled under the blanket—every shadow around her feel threatening since that day.
The memory of being abducted clawed at her mind.
"Lyra, you're not asleep yet, are you?" he said softly, his voice steady in the quiet of the night.
That voice wasn't Owen's, but Lyra didn't respond.
"Did you have a nightmare? You're shaking so badly."
His large hand slowly pull away her blanket—she recoiled, tears spilling down her cheeks.
Everything went blank, her mind shutting down in shock.
Rowan swept her up into his arms, holding her close.
"It's okay. I'm here," he murmured, patting her gently to offer reassurance.
Lyra recognized something familiar in his scent, though she couldn't figure out who he was, and his embrace was firm yet strangely reassuring.
She let herself lean into him, taking slow, steady breaths just as her therapist had taught her, counting quietly—one, two, three… all the way to ten. Gradually, she opened her eyes.
Lyra's heart leapt like a thousand startled butterflies when she met those amethyst-soft eyes. There he was, right in front of her. "Rowan," she murmured.
"Are you feeling okay?" Rowan bent slightly, meeting her gaze as she rested in his embrace.
Lyra nodded. "I'm okay now." She let out a quiet sigh of relief. Rowan held her a moment longer before finally letting her go.
"I'm sorry for coming so late," he said softly. "I've just returned from Stonehollow."
The memory of that day hit her suddenly. Lyra still carried guilt over James's death, even though it wasn't her fault. "I feel sorry for Mr. Dolan," she whispered.
She couldn't ignore that James had bad intentions toward her—trying to kidnap her abroad, attempting to drug her with hallucinogens. Yet the fact that he had given his life to save her, a complete stranger, left her utterly perplexed.
Rowan told her that Yvette had been arrested. The news made Lyra furious—furious that Yvette was alive while James was gone.
There was one thing she'd been dying to ask.
"Is she your girlfriend? And she's a criminal… how did you even get mixed up with her?" Lyra said, her tone tinged with anger.
Even so, Rowan found her utterly adorable through the frustration.
Finally, Rowan understood what it felt like to be grilled by a wife about another woman, and he smiled at the thought of it.
He explained everything to Lyra—the contract he had offered Yvette as a fake lover—and, feeling guilty, admitting that he had misjudged the situation and underestimated Yvette's cunning, which had inadvertently put Lyra in danger.
After a few minutes of quiet conversation, Lyra yawned.
"It's late. You should rest," Rowan said, smoothing the blankets around her.
As he started to turn away, Lyra caught his arm, holding it for a heartbeat before letting him slip free, not wanting to make him uncomfortable. "Are you leaving?"
"No, I'll stay here with you tonight," Rowan replied, pointing to the sofa—meaning he'd sleep there.
Lyra pictured his tall, broad frame trying to fit on that narrow sofa and frowned. With no staff around in the middle of the night to request another bed.
Lyra didn't think twice about inviting him onto the bed. Perhaps it was because he was her husband. There was nothing wrong with it and she felt completely at ease with him.
"You can sleep here. That sofa doesn't look comfortable." She patted the space beside her.
Rowan glanced at the narrow sofa, then back at Lyra, a mock glare on his face. "You really don't want me on the sofa, do you?" he teased. Lyra couldn't reply, unsure what he meant.
Rowan chuckled softly. "Alright, if you insist," he said, moving closer and slipping into the blanket.
He secured the bed rails on both sides, making sure neither of them would roll off in their sleep.
They settled together in a comfortable embrace, bodies close, hearts calm.
"Night," he murmured, patting her gently until Lyra drifted into a soft, peaceful sleep.
Rowan's lips curved into a small, contented smile as he closed his eyes, feeling her warmth beside him.
The next morning, Dr. Alexander arrived right on schedule to check Lyra's progress. He froze as he slid the door open halfway, then quickly closed it again, careful not to wake the couple still sound asleep, entwined in a way that made him chuckle quietly.
The nurse behind him noticed too, and the two slipped away, planning to return at noon.