Natalie POV
The numbing, bitter frost of the white-root coated my throat, a synthetic shield paralyzing the constant, violent tremors of my stomach. Every breath I drew tasted of crushed winter-sage and ancient ash, a volatile combination that kept the baseline scent of the pregnancy buried deep within my core.
I stood in the center of Richard’s massive, shadow-drenched bedchamber, the heavy emerald silk of my traveling gown replaced by a plain, dark woolen cloak that smelled of nothing but pine oil and rain. The grand grandfather clock near the hearth clicked rhythmically, the golden hands crawling toward midnight with an agonized, heavy progression.
“The bond is quiet, Natalie,” Selene whispered from the dark recesses of my mind, her voice a fragile thread of pure exhaustion.
“The h
