The air shimmered around them—thick with the hum of power—and in the blink of an eye, the room melted away.
The next moment, they landed hard on cold tiles.
Alicia staggered, vision spinning, the energy from the teleportation washing over her like a wave. Her balance faltered, knees buckling slightly—and before she could stop herself, she clutched onto the only steady thing around her.
Adrien.
Her hands fisted into his shirt, forehead falling against his chest as her body adjusted. The smell of him—dark musk, leather, and something wild—invaded her senses. His arms didn't hesitate. They came around her like instinct, like possession, like she belonged there.
"You good, Elfie?" he murmured against her hair, voice low and smug.
"Shut up," she groaned, still gripping him, refusing to open her eyes.
