Verret’s Pov
The silence followed us home.
Her fingers had been warm against my palm during the walk, yet her words still echoed in the air like ghosts that refused to fade. She’d said she’d rather die than be with me.
And still, she walked beside me.
Delilah’s steps were slower now, the heels of her boots scraping faintly against the marble as we entered the mansion. I released her hand once we crossed the threshold, the door shutting behind us with a sound that carried finality.
The air changed. I could feel it before I even saw them.
The sitting room was filled. The gold-embroidered robes. The silent gazes that followed me like watchful predators. The faint smell of incense.
The Priests’ Council.
Delilah’s voice broke the hush.
“Who are these people?” she asked, confusion wrink
