I awake more rested than I have in a long time. The soft bed, clean sheets, and Tiago’s warm body next to mine worked wonders. I stretch and yawn, glancing over at Tiago. He’s still asleep, lips parted, dark lashes fanned over his cheeks. He looks so peaceful. I resist the urge to reach out and smooth the unruly lock of hair falling over his forehead.
Instead, I slide out from under the covers so as not to wake him or Stella. She’s curled into a tiny ball between us, wings tucked in. I tiptoe to the bathroom to wash up. When I emerge, Tiago is sitting up in bed, hair mussed, blinking sleepily.