Three days had passed since the battle scarred Corvia’s streets, three endless days since Rion had stormed out of her chamber, leaving her breathless and aching on the edge of surrender.
His absence gnawed at Freya, a relentless ache that burrowed deeper into her mind with each passing hour.
The archives, once her sanctuary, offered no solace—rows of dusty shelves and faded scrolls couldn’t fill the void he’d left.
She traced the lines of Raven Kingdom history with restless fingers, but her thoughts strayed to him: his dark eyes blazing with desire, his hands searing her skin, his voice growling her name.
She missed him—missed him more than she’d ever thought possible—and the weight of it pressed against her chest, a longing she couldn’t shake.
As the third day waned, the sun dipp
