Lyra strolled along the palace gardens, the scent of blooming nightshade filling the cool evening air. Prince Taren walked beside her, his tall, lean frame moving with an effortless grace. His presence was comforting, familiar in a way that only a mate’s could be. Yet, despite the undeniable connection between them, she couldn’t shake the feeling that his arrival brought more than just an affectionate reunion.
She finally turned to him, breaking the comfortable silence. “So, what are you really doing here, Taren?”
His dark eyes softened as he studied her face. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you, Lyra,” he admitted, his voice low and intense. “After you suddenly disappeared from the palace, it was as if a part of me had been ripped away. Being apart from you has been unbearable.”
