Ranon’s POV
The restless energy that coursed through me was a tangible thing, a simmering undercurrent of fear and possessiveness that threatened to boil over. I couldn’t stand still. I couldn’t focus. The image of Caelum’s smug, knowing smile, the echo of his cryptic words, played on repeat in my mind, fueling the primal urge to protect, to claim, to obliterate any threat to Elowen’s well-being.
She had been unnervingly quiet on the walk back from the training grounds. The usual spark, the quick wit, the playful banter – all extinguished, replaced by a heavy, unsettling silence. And Elowen’s silence wasn’t like anyone else’s. It wasn’t a peaceful stillness, but a pregnant pause, a gathering storm. It was the hush before a scream, the tautness of a bowstring before the arrow is released, the razor’s edge before it cuts.
I hated it. I loathed the feeling of being shut out, of being unable to reach her, to soothe the turmoil that I knew was raging beneath the surface.
Alaric, ever the s
