FENRIC'S POV
For the past few nights, I’d listened to Anwen pace endlessly inside her chambers. Back and forth. Back and forth.
Sometimes the footsteps would stop for a while, only for the sound of soft crying to seep through the adjoining wall instead.
Every single time, it pulled at something raw inside my chest. Because I knew exactly why she was crying.
I leaned back in the chair beside the fire, swirling the liquor lazily in my glass while the sound of her muffled sobs drifted faintly through the stone walls once again.
I hated hearing her cry. And I hated that I was the reason for it.
But I still intended to see this through. I was going to have what I wanted.
If only she would surrender. If only she would give me the one thing I desired most. All her worries about Arlo would
