191
Emilia’s POV
The tension in the room was suffocating. Alaric stood by the window, his back to me, his hands braced against the frame as if he were holding himself together. His shoulders were taut, his jaw locked. We were at it again. I didn’t think he meant it literally when he said he wouldn’t let me out of his sight.
“I’m not asking for your permission, Alaric,” I said, my voice sharper than I intended. “I’m telling you what I need to do.”
He turned slowly, his dark eyes burning with barely restrained fury. “You’re telling me?” His tone was cold, cutting. “Do you have any idea what you’re walking into?”
“I’m walking into a conversation,” I said firmly. “A conversation that might give me answers about my mother, about my past. Why is that so hard for you to understand?”
“Becaus
