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I don’t know how long I lie there. Minutes. Hours. Time loses all meaning. But eventually, I feel movement beside me. A sleepy mumble. The rustle of a blanket.

I crack an eye open just in time to see her turn her head toward me, her expression dazed and soft from sleep. For a moment, confusion flickers across her face.

Then, recognition. “Griffin?” she whispers, voice rough and scratchy from sleep.

“Yeah,” I murmur back. “Didn’t mean to wake you.”

She blinks at me, her eyebrows drawing together. “What are you doing out here?”

I shrug one shoulder, staring up at the sky again. “Couldn’t sleep. Palace feels too...much.”

She’s silent for a beat, and then, softly, “Me too.”

I turn my head to look at her fully. She’s watching me with those wide, dark eyes, something tender and open in them. She picks up one edge of the top blanket and drapes half of it over me in an attempt to protect me from the cold.

My chest aches at the small, protective gesture.

I want to reach out and brush the hair from her face. I want to pull her close and tell her everything that’s boiling under my skin.

But I don’t.

I just lie there, breathing her in, grounding myself in her presence.

“Do you mind if I stay?” I ask, my voice low.

She smiles sleepily, that small, secret smile she gives only when she’s too tired to hide her heart. “Stay,” she says simply,wriggling closer and nudging my arm with her head. I straighten it out, and she uses it as a pillow.

No other woman would dare to do that. But then, no other woman is Maya.

I stretch out beside her, close enough that I can feel the warmth of her body radiating through the thin space between us.

The stars swirl above us, endless and ancient.

And slowly, the tension bleeding from my bones, I close my eyes and let sleep find me.

A sharp,sour tang cuts through the cool night air, threading into my dreams like a blade.

I smell fear.

My body snaps awake before my mind fully catches up. Every instinct flares to life, primal and urgent. My heart pounds as I turn my head, searching for the source. I find only Maya, curled tight on the blanket beside me, her face twisted in pain.

A low, broken whimper escapes her throat.

I sit up instantly, reaching for her. She’s trembling, her hands clutching at the blanket like she’s trying to hold on to something that’s slipping away. Tears streak her cheeks, catching the faint light from the stars.

“Maya,” I murmur, voice rough with sleep.

I touch her shoulder gently. She flinches hard, a soft sob tearing from her lips.

“Maya, wake up,” I try again, a little louder.

Nothing.

She’s trapped in whatever hell her mind has conjured. Her breath comes in shallow gasps, like she’s fighting something—or someone.

A deep, protective growl builds low in my chest, unbidden. I suppress the feral urge to hunt whatever’s hurting her, because I know it’s not real. Not right now, anyway.

I try shaking her shoulder again, firmer this time. “Maya. Wake up. You’re safe.”