It had been days since the confrontation with Aiden, and yet the memory of that moment clung to me like a shadow, persistent and heavy.
I’d replayed every word, every flicker of expression, every pause in his voice, and I still came up empty.
Parables. Hints. A veil of secrecy that did nothing but stoke the fire of my suspicions.
I had given him one final opportunity to come clean, to take my hand and free us both from the tormenting weight of Mara’s hold. And he had refused. Not with cruelty, but with ambiguity that was almost worse.
Luca had noticed the shift in me.
“You’re colder these days,” he said as we patrolled the perimeter one morning, frost still hugging the earth.
“I’m tired,” I replied flatly.
“Of secrets. Of being told to wait. Of being treated like I don’t deserve an
