Alaric’s POV
Dawn bled across the horizon, painting the ancient stone floor of our shared chamber in hues of rose and gold. The light, usually a welcome sight, felt like an intrusion this morning, starkly illuminating the emptiness beside me. My hand, still heavy with the remnants of sleep, instinctively reached for the familiar warmth of Elowen’s presence.
It met only the cool, crisp linen of undisturbed sheets.
A jolt, sharp and unsettling, shot through me. My eyes snapped fully open, the lingering fog of sleep instantly banished. The blanket she habitually burrowed beneath lay folded with an unnerving tidiness at the foot of the bed, a stark testament to her absence.
“Elowen?” The name escaped my lips, a rough whisper in the echoing silence of the room.
I pushed myself up, the silk of my sleep shirt clinging uncomfortably. My gaze swept the room, lingering on the small, familiar details – the scattered books on her nightstand, the half-finished sketchpad resting against the wall, t
