The morning after the dinner was too quiet. Usually, I could hear the distant rumble of Killian’s bike or the sound of Silas talking on the phone in his office, but today, the house felt like it was holding its breath. I sat by the window in my new suite, watching the mist roll over the trees.
My neck didn't just ache anymore; it felt warm. Every time I thought about Alaric, Silas, or Killian, the Mark pulsed. It was like a reminder that I was tethered to them by a thread I couldn't see.
I closed my eyes and tried to focus on that humming in my head. I could feel Alaric nearby. He was frustrated. I could feel Silas, too; he was calm but sharp, like a knife hidden in silk. Killian was a storm of raw anger, somewhere far out on the grounds.
A soft knock came at my door.
"Come in," I said
