Elara
It was a cold night.
I sat curled near the hearth, a blanket wrapped loosely around my shoulders and a warm cup of herbal tea between my hands. The faint scent of lavender clung to the steam, but it did little to calm the restless storm inside me.
Nova stirred within me, quiet, watchful.
Lyconderia still didn’t feel like home. I walked these halls in Seraphina’s body, wore her voice like a familiar mask, but I was still Elara underneath it all. I still remembered fire licking at my skin. The betrayal.
The way death had come cold and final.
And the promise of rebirth.
My mate, Xavier.
Was somewhere on the other side of the palace. I hadn’t seen him much since the day I woke. But I felt him. The bond pulsed in my chest like a slow, aching drum.
You’re not alone, Elara, Nova
