Leanna Avery
I swallow.
I was a political prisoner back then. He wasn’t exactly subtle about it. But nobody goes that far for someone who’s merely a prisoner in their eyes. Cedric’s harsh behavior in the beginning can be justified, perhaps. But then, he began trying to make me comfortable. At some point, the castle stopped being a prison and started becoming a home to me. Would I have felt that way if he had not gone out of his way to perform all those small gestures?
Perhaps time makes it easier to study our past with a more forgiving gaze.
I don’t know what to do. There’s a strange, uncomfortable sensation in my chest. My wolf is happy, though. For it, the solution is simple. But human emotions are more complicated. They have layers of nuance to them.
“Leanna.”
He keeps using my na
