The Billionaire’s Secret Quartet (Thalassa and Elowen) novel Chapter 1960

The following Monday, Thalassa woke up from a deep sleep that had lasted from the previous afternoon all the way into the morning.

As soon as her eyes fluttered open, she instinctively reached out for her phone, only to grasp at the empty air beside her bed. It took her a moment to remember that Callum had taken her phone and she hadn't retrieved it yet.

But something felt off as her hand searched the empty space—there was warmth, and the faint sensation of breath against her skin.

Startled, Thalassa's eyes shot open, and as she lifted her head to look toward where her hand had landed, she found it resting on Lysander's face. Her entire palm enveloped the side of his face, her fingertips brushing against his breath.

That's when she realized why she could feel the warmth of his exhales.

"Oh, shoot," she thought, realizing she had been touching Lysander's face all this while!

Thalassa couldn't help but chuckle at her own predicament. Just as she was about to pull her hand away, a larger hand covered hers, pressing it gently against his cheek. He even rubbed his face against her palm a little.

The warmth and the softness of the gesture sent a cozy thrill straight to her heart, a ticklish sensation spreading through her.

Thalassa laughed, "What are you doing? Time to get up."

It was such a kittenish gesture, Lysander holding her hand against his face, seeking affection in such a tender way.

Thalassa would have never imagined the strong, assertive Lysander, who always seemed to stand tall and untouchable, would show such a playful side in front of her.

"Let's sleep in a bit more. Why rush?" Lysander's voice, husky with sleep, filled the room, sounding barely awake.

"Huh?" Thalassa sounded puzzled. "Weren't we supposed to go get our marriage license today? It's Monday."

It was from the day before when Callum had tied her up with a scarf, pulling it too tight, leaving her with these painful reminders.

Lysander was already by her side, gently cradling her foot in his hands, his brows furrowed with a mix of concern and anger as he saw the extent of the swelling.

Every time he saw a new injury on Thalassa, Lysander mentally cursed Callum, promising retribution.

But in front of Thalassa, he was all tenderness and care.

"Just sit tight. I'll grab some ice for that," he said, helping her sit on the bed before heading out.

He returned shortly, a bundle of ice wrapped in a towel in his hand, ready to tend to her ankle with all the gentleness in the world.