Alexander’s POV
The library felt less like a sanctuary and more like a tomb.
The fire I’d built earlier had burned down to embers, casting a dull, pulsating red glow across the Persian rugs. The air was stale, thick with the scent of old paper, stress, and the lingering, haunting perfume of vanilla and rain that Lilian had left behind.
She had been gone for two hours.
I told myself the silence was a relief. I told myself that having her out of my sight meant I could finally focus on the maps spread out across my desk, on the logistics of war, on the survival of my House.
Liar, Titus snarled from the back of my mind. The silence is heavy. The silence is wrong. We should go to the door. We should listen for her breath.
She’s sleeping, I snapped back, dipping my pen into the inkwell wit
