The moon hung high over the Redwood Stronghold, shrouded in a veil of pale mist. The woods were quiet, too quiet. Even the night birds kept quiet in fear.
Ethan remained at the side of his bed in his chamber, keeping his hands squeezed together tightly, while his mind was shaken.
The courier had returned only hours ago from Crestwood, bearing news in few words and an even sharper tone:
“The letter was burned. There was no reply.”
And that was all he’d needed to hear.
Sophia had rejected the apology.
His chest still ached from the weight of it.
Even though the letter hadn’t come from him, it had still felt like a final lifeline tossed into a stormy sea. It was Maddy’s hand that wrote it, but in some way, Ethan had been silently hoping it would at least open a door—a c***k, even.
But
