When Eiravyne opened her eyes, the world around her had shifted entirely.
The gentle glow of moonlight filtering through her curtains and the familiar softness of her bed told her exactly where she was—back in her chambers.
The plush sheets wrapped around her were a stark contrast to the cool, crisp sensation of snow she had felt just before.
She blinked slowly, the haze of sleep still clinging to her, as she tried to piece together the moments leading up to this.
The memory of the snowfield lingered vividly in her mind—the cold, serene beauty of it all, the way the snowflakes had kissed her skin, and, most of all, the warmth of Urag's hand in hers.
She remembered the quiet stillness of lying side by side with him, the way their fingers had intertwined.
But then... nothing.
Eiravyne sat up slowly, she adjusted to the dim light of the room.
Her brow furrowed as she tried to recall how she had ended up here. Had she fallen asleep? Had Urag carried her back?
