Elara’s POVThe air was thick with the scent of floor wax, old parchment, and the sharp, medicinal tang of Hestia’s tinctures. Servants moved with a frantic, muffled energy, their soft-soled shoes pattering against the stone floors like a heartbeat. They were packing for a journey that usually spanned two days of hard riding, but with the winter sky turning the color of bruised slate, everyone knew the mountain passes would be a gauntlet.I leaned against the heavy bedpost, every breath felt like a chore, reminds me of the silver-dusted steel that had nearly claimed me. My wolf was quiet, suppressed by the trauma, but the blood Rhys had forced into my veins was restless, a hot, thrumming current that made the room feel too small."You there," I said, my voice a dry rasp.A young maid, barely twenty and trembling like a leaf, paused in her task of folding heavy wool cloaks. She looked up, her eyes wide with a mix of pity and fear. I beckoned her closer.When she was within arm's reach,
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