Isabella Hawthorne
We entered the manor, a wave of warmth washing over me as the heavy oak doors swung shut behind us.
The air inside smelled faintly of cinnamon and beeswax polish, and with a hint of blood. I repressed a shiver. Alfred led the way, his gait steady despite the weight of the events that had unfolded just moments ago. Draven and Eirik followed, their expressions reflecting a tense truce I had managed to broker with my words. Draegen trailed behind them.
I couldn't help but steal a glance at the Dragon Sovereign and I knew he harbored a simmering resentment towards Eirik for intervening in my rescue. The tension between them was almost palpable, a silent undercurrent that added to the already charged atmosphere. Why was he so mad at Eirik?
As we moved deeper into t
