ElaraThe sun rose over the city, casting long, pale shadows across the master suite, but the bed beside me remained cold.Silas had not returned.For the first time since the wedding, I had slept alone in the center of the massive mattress.I should have felt relieved.I should have stretched my limbs into the empty space, savored the absence of his heavy, possessive heat, and breathed easier without the scent of sandalwood and repressed rage filling my lungs.Instead, I felt a knot of dread tightening in my stomach.Silas Vancewick did not retreat.He did not surrender ground.If he had abandoned the field of battle for a night, it was not because he was giving up; it was because he was rearming.I rose at six, adhering to the schedule he had set, though he wasn’t there to enforce it.I dressed in a high-necked dress of severe navy wool, the fabric scratching slightly against my skin.It was penitent armor.I pulled my hair back until my scalp ached, securing every strand.I sat at
آخر تحديث : 2025-12-04 اقرأ المزيد