*DRAYTON*
GRIEF. I knew that feeling too well, that's why I allowed Elder Theron to howl at me.
Standing right there as he continued to pound his fists on my chest, I didn't utter a word.
Apparently, the blame was on me, I realize that now. If I hadn't permitted Clarissa to stay in my house in the first place, if I had refused and sent her somewhere else, then she wouldn't have succeeded in sabotaging Elysia. Octavian ought not to lose his job and Elysia wouldn't be in that ward, fighting for her life.
And maybe, just maybe... she wouldn't be a corpse.
A middle-aged woman in a white coat, holding a notepad suddenly approached us. She bent slightly in greeting. "Good morning, Sire. Elder Theron...do you want to see her now?"
With tears in his eyes, he looked from me to the female
