The weeks that followed the gala were the hardest of Elara's life.
She had killed her father. Not once, but twice. The first time, she had been in shock, acting on instinct. The second time, she had been cold and deliberate, choosing to end the threat once and for all. And while she knew she had done the right thing, the weight of what she had done pressed down on her like a physical burden.
Julian watched her with worried eyes, his love a constant presence at her side. He didn't push, didn't demand that she talk. He simply waited, his patience infinite, his support unwavering.
But Elara could see the fear in his eyes. The fear that she was slipping away from him. The fear that the darkness of the past was finally consuming her.
It was on a cold winter night that Elara finally broke.
