Aria had barely slept.
The velvet curtains of her chamber were drawn tightly, shutting out the morning sun, but it wasn’t the lack of light that kept her awake. It was the words she had overheard last night, whispered in the hall's shadows where no one was supposed to listen. Words that clawed at her heart, words she wished she had never heard.
“You cannot protect her forever. The past will catch up to her.”
The voice had been unfamiliar, deep, threaded with menace. And then Killian’s reply, low and sharp, as though every syllable cost him:
“I will protect her with my life. No matter what comes.”
Her chest still ached at the memory. She pressed a trembling hand against her ribs, staring at the ceiling. Did Killian mean her? Was she the “her” he spoke of? And if so… what past was comin
