LUCY
The hug we shared clings to me with infuriating persistence, refusing to fade no matter how determinedly I try to put it behind me.
As Tavric and I make our way through the palace corridors, pieces of it keep resurfacing without warning—the solid strength of his arms around me, the steadiness of his heartbeat beneath my cheek, the rough warmth of his hand spread across my back.
Even his scent seems to have followed me, lingering so vividly that every now and then I catch myself wondering if it's truly still in the air or if my mind has simply decided to torment me.
I flatten my hand against my thigh as we walk, pressing hard enough to ground myself.
It does absolutely nothing.
The warmth beneath my skin refuses to cooperate. My fingers curl into the fabric of my trousers instead, silently willing my thoughts to move on.
They don't.
