Baron froze in surprise, the words catching like a blade between his ribs.
Her lashes fluttered, unfocused at first.
Then her eyes sharpened.
She jolted upright, staring straight at him—Baron, towering by the bed, his expression caught between iron restraint and something he couldn’t quite bury.
Her lips parted. “You are—”
“Keep your voice down,” he snapped in a hushed growl, glancing toward the door as if the very walls might carry her words away.
The room went still, the air thick with the danger of what morning had brought.
Elowyn’s breath hitched, her chest tight as the weight of where she was crashed down on her. His room. His bed. Him standing too close.
Baron exhaled, slow and steady, as though taming the storm inside him. His gaze locked onto hers, low and unyielding.
“Don
