DROGO
It’s been almost two weeks since Isolde has been staying with Morgan. Almost two weeks, she’d been the ghost of herself.
She barely spoke unless spoken to, barely ate, and barely slept because of nightmares. She obeys like a robot, sometimes staring at the sky or ceiling blankly, as if she were lost.
Morgan insisted she remain with her. I did not argue.
I could take her back to the territory if I wanted, but seeing her this way, I was not sure how I felt.
Honestly, if it were not for Morgan’s treatment, heaven knows how far the effects of the second heat might have gone.
She is so fragile. One wrong move and she might shatter completely.
She had lost weight. Her once-shiny locks were beginning to lose their luster. Even her eyes, which once held stubbornness, hope, and annoy
