Guests had gathered in neat rows, their silks catching the light, their voices pitched in pleasant, practiced tones. It was the kind of event to see and be seen.I stood off to the side in the shade of a carved marble archway, my green gown too warm, my hands too still.My name wasn’t being called.
LilaThree days. That’s how long it had been since Ronan knocked at the door and Damon walked away with my hand still warm in his.He hadn’t spoken much since.Oh, he was present—attentive in his way. He sat with me at meals, slept near enough for our bond to pulse faintly between us, and touched my
Damon“My King. You need to come. Isabella’s been seen inside the palace grounds.” Ronan’s voice cut through the intimate moment like a blade.Lila froze in my arms. The firelight still danced on her skin, her hand still pressed against my chest—but the warmth between us vanished in an instant. I fe
LilaThe fire had burned low by the time I heard the door open.I didn’t turn to look. I didn’t need to. Damon’s presence filled the room like a shift in gravity—subtle, but undeniable. The scent of cedar and cold wind followed him in, brushing over my skin like a memory I hadn’t decided whether to
“Because I don’t know what I want anymore.”She reached out and squeezed my hand, warm and solid. We sat in silence again.After a while, she asked, “Do you want to see him?”I hesitated. My thumb drifted along the edge of the teacup. The warmth had faded again.“I don’t know,” I whispered.But part
LilaThe robe they’d given me was too soft.Every thread brushed my skin like an apology, and I hated how easily I melted into it. It reminded me of the cell—how the cold had stripped away sensation until the return of warmth hurt.I sat by the window in Damon’s chambers, curled beneath a quilt I ha