Things have been awkward between Isla and Soran ever since that day they had an intimate moment.
She had tried to greet him, talk to him, even just say good morning in passing when their paths crossed in the hallway or near the main stairs. Every single time he ignored her. Completely. No nod, no glance, no flicker of recognition. He looked straight through her like she was air, or worse—like she was something he regretted ever touching.
Isla felt the silence like a bruise that wouldn’t heal. She replayed the night over and over in her head: the way he’d whispered in her ear, the way her body had answered before her mind could catch up, the way he’d groaned her name when he came inside her… and then the way his face had shattered when she said Rowan’s name out loud.
She had tried to apo
