Annalise’s POV
The sight before me rooted me to the spot.
Alaric stood in the center of the court, shirt torn and half-soaked in blood, his sword gleaming crimson under the muted shafts of morning light.
At his feet lay a bloodied man morerag doll than man.. gasping and twitching in pain. His body was battered, his flesh torn open by cuts, yet it wasn’t the sight of blood that made the room hum with fear.
It was Alaric himself.
Every muscle in him was taut, every movement deliberate, his presence pressing down on the air like a storm that had yet to break. His beast growled faintly, a sound that seemed to vibrate through the stone walls and into my bones.
I should have turned away. I should have flinched or recoiled like the maids behind me. But I didn’t.
Instead, I watched.
The
