Emma’s POV

The first tendrils of dawn, bruised purple and faint gold, crept through the vast glass walls of the penthouse, painting the silent living room in a soft, ethereal light. My eyes fluttered open, heavy with a sleep deeper than any I had known in months. A foreign warmth cocooned me, a steady beat beneath my ear, a scent that was both alien and impossibly familiar – dark, expensive, uniquely Adrian.