Alexander’s POV
It wasn’t a sound that woke me. The house was silent, built of stone thick enough to hold back a hurricane, and the only noise was the settling of the foundation against the winter earth. I woke up because of the cold.
It wasn’t the ambient temperature of the room dropping, but a phantom chill. A sudden, violent absence of heat against my side where there should have been a soft, breathing weight.
When my eyes snapped open, my hand was already shooting across the sheets, fingers splayed as they sought her warmth.
Empty.
The linen was cool to the touch.
GONE, Titus roared, slamming against the inside of my ribs with the force of a battering ram. THE MATE IS GONE.
I sat up, my heart hammering a frantic rhythm that had nothing to do with the lingering haze of sleep and
