The last of the storm dwindled into silence, leaving behind the soft patter of lingering drizzle on the cottage roof. The fire had shrunk to glowing embers, casting a fading warmth into the quiet room. The lanterns had burned low, their flames now flickering uncertainty in the glass. Outside, the night air was cold and damp, curling against the windows like a restless whisper.Inside, Miley lay beneath a thick quilt on the floor pallet near the hearth, her breathing even, her body curled on her side. She had insisted Julius stay in the room. Not for protection…though she did not say it…but for something far simpler. Neither of them had wanted to face the storm’s aftermath alone.Julius had agreed without a word. He had taken his place behind her, not touching at first, leaving a respectful space between them. But as the minutes passed and the fire dimmed, he heard her breathe out a soft, involuntary shiver. The quilt rustled as she pulled it tighter around herself.He moved closer be