The morning light filtered through the curtains, painting golden streaks across the bedroom. For a moment, I wasn’t sure if I was dreaming—the warmth of her still curled against me, the faint scent of jasmine on the sheets, her hair a dark halo across the pillow.

I shifted slightly, and she stirred with a contented hum, her leg tightening around mine as if to say don’t even think about moving yet.

“Good morning,” I whispered, brushing a kiss to her temple.

Her lips curved into a lazy smile without opening her eyes. “Mmm ... says the man who kept me up half the night. You’re lucky I don’t still have genie magic, or I’d conjure myself a gallon of coffee right here.”

I grinned, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Pretty sure centuries of experience means you can handle one overzealous mortal.”