Elowen’s POV
The warmth of the blankets cocooned me as soft light spilled through the tall windows of the mansion. My leg ached dully beneath the layers of gauze, but the pain was bearable now. Familiar. Like the weight of a scar still healing.
Ranon wasn’t beside me anymore.
For a moment, I lay there—disoriented and surrounded by silence. The spot where he’d held me last night was cold now, the room empty of the quiet protectiveness I’d fallen asleep to.
I rubbed my eyes, breathing in the faint scent of chamomile and cedar that still lingered on my pillow. My throat felt dry again, but the thirst wasn’t what drove me to sit up and swing my legs over the side of the bed.
It was something else.
Something missing.
Someone.
A hollow ache sat in my chest like I’d forgotten something important. I tried to shake it off, carefully limping toward the door.
The mansion was still, the kind of stillness that felt wrong—like everyone was waiting for something. Or hiding.
I found Ranon and Alaric
