Life in Favalon settled into a quiet rhythm. I was leaving the bakery, clutching a bag of fresh bread, the scent of lavender mingling with the sweet aroma of pastries. A smile tugged at my lips—Oliver could devour three almond croissants in one go.
"Clara."
The voice sliced through the dusk like lightning. My body froze, the bag slipping from my hands, croissants tumbling onto the cobblestones.
I looked up. Dominic stood there, his suit stark against the sleepy town's vibe, his frame leaner, eyes bloodshot. When our gazes met, his jaw clenched tight.
"I found you," he said, voice raw and ragged.
I stepped back instinctively, only to bump into a warm chest. Oliver was behind me, steadying my shoulders. "You okay?" he asked.
Dominic's eyes turned to ice. He strode forward, pulling us a
