Elowen’s POV
Lost in the quiet sanctuary of Alaric’s embrace, time seemed to dissolve, the gentle rhythm of his breathing and the steady beat of his heart a soothing lullaby that gradually eased the lingering tremors within me. The firelight danced across the aged spines of the books lining the library walls, casting a warm, golden glow that painted the scene with an intimate tenderness, a stark contrast to the storm-swept intensity of my earlier encounter with Theron.
Wrapped in his quiet strength, I felt a profound sense of peace settle over me, a feeling of being truly held, not just physically, but emotionally, by a man who had witnessed my every fall and every hesitant rise. Every time my gaze drifted to his face, etched with the familiar lines of concern and quiet determination, I saw beyond the formidable warrior, the strategic mind that guided our people. I saw the boy who had stood silently in the shadows, a steadfast guardian during my most vulnerable moments, a silent promi
