The first light of dawn crept through the cabin’s pine-framed windows, soft and golden, spilling across the quilt that tangled around Xavier and Ivy. The fire from last night had burned to embers, leaving the air cool enough that their breath met in faint wisps. Outside, the forest murmured — the distant call of a dove, the sigh of wind brushing against cedar boughs. Inside, all was still, wrapped in the quiet that only morning in the mountains could hold.

Ivy stirred first. A wisp of hair had fallen over her cheek, and Xavier watched it rise and fall with her slow, steady breathing. The light kissed her skin — a warm glow on her collarbone, a glimmer in the strands of her dark hair. He smiled without meaning to, tracing lazy patterns along her shoulder with his fingertips. She made a small sound, half sigh, half laugh, and turned toward him.