Clover sprinted toward Theo the moment she saw them, her sobs echoing in the wide hall. She flung her arms around him, burying her tear-streaked face in his chest. Theo instinctively steadied her, though his eyes darted toward Savannah.
Savannah stood silently, her expression impassive, though the sight of them together sent a sharp, stabbing ache through her chest. Memories, bitter and painful, flooded her mind—every betrayal, every humiliation—but she refused to let her mask slip. She wasn’t the naive girl who had once believed in Theo’s promises.
Theo’s gaze lingered on her, and she knew he could sense her pain, even if she worked hard to hide it. A pang of gratitude struck her that he hadn’t marked her. If he had, there would be no hiding her thoughts, no shielding him from the murde
