I didn’t sleep that night.
After Asher finished speaking, the silence in the study had grown too heavy to bear. I asked for space. He gave it without argument, though the look in his eyes said he wanted to follow me. I returned to the room beside his, closed the door, and sat on the edge of the bed with my blades across my knees.
The truth sat in my chest like a stone.
He had rejected me to save me.
He had chosen public humiliation over watching the bond burn me alive.
He had lived with a half-dead connection for three years while his power slowly turned against him.
And somewhere out there, my sister knew the truth and had not taken it quietly.
I wanted to reject all of it. I wanted to call it a convenient story designed to rewrite the worst night of my life. But the pieces fit too
