Elowen’s POV
The lingering dampness in the air, a cool caress against my skin, was the only tangible reminder of the downpour as I finally emerged from the sanctuary of my room. The mansion, usually bustling with a subtle undercurrent of activity, was now draped in a profound silence, punctuated only by the soft creaking of old wood and the distant whisper of the wind.
Dimly lit sconces cast long, dancing shadows along the familiar hallways, their flickering light creating an atmosphere of quiet contemplation. My own heart felt too full, a strange mix of relief and lingering tension after the raw honesty shared with Theron in the storm. I wasn’t searching for anything specific, just a quiet corner to gather my thoughts, to process the whirlwind of emotions that still swirled within me.
But as it often seemed to happen within these ancient walls, I found him anyway.
Alaric was in the library, his tall, lean figure almost swallowed by the deep armchair tucked away in a shadowy corner n