A Caged Songbird's Escape: Into the Arms of a Predator novel Chapter 277

She didn’t even have the energy for a quick kiss or a hug anymore.

Work had drained her dry, leaving nothing for romance, desire, or even the smallest indulgence.

Rowan glanced at her with a trace of amusement. “Well? Aren’t you going to shower? Or are you waiting for me to sing you a lullaby?”

A lullaby.

He actually used to sing her to sleep.

The day her parents died, the sky over Cresthaven had been thick with thunder and rain—a storm like so many others in that place. Ever since, she’d never slept soundly on stormy nights, haunted by nightmares that left her restless and shaken.

Rowan would sit beside her, gently rubbing her back and humming softly until she drifted off.

Snapping back to the present, Elissa nodded at his suggestion, eager to escape. “I’ll go shower first. Make yourself at home.”

As long as he didn’t drag her with him, he could do whatever he liked.

But when Elissa stepped out of the bathroom, towel drying her hair, she froze at the sight of the man now occupying her bed.

He’d clearly taken her words to heart—he really had made himself at home.

He must have stopped by his place first; he’d changed into a set of silk pajamas and was lying on his side, claiming the left side of the bed.

Elissa had always slept on the right, ever since she was a child. Where she ended up overnight was anyone’s guess, but she always started on the right.

As she approached the bed, she noticed the dark circles under his eyes were even worse than hers, and she hadn’t slept for nearly thirty-six hours.

It looked like he’d just flown back from Meridia Country to Vistapeak City and hadn’t caught a wink of rest since landing.

Elissa stood quietly beside the bed, lost in her thoughts. Suddenly, she let out a tiny laugh.

The man, who’d been dozing peacefully, reached out in his sleep, caught her arm, and pulled her into his embrace. His voice was husky from sleep. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing,” she replied lightly.

No way was she confessing that she’d just remembered the time she drew a turtle on his face while he was napping.

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