By the next morning, the sun was barely cresting the horizon when Elenor stepped into the grand dining hall. Her dress, a stunning shade of deep emerald, hugged her figure gracefully, with its low-cut neckline proudly displaying the fresh mating mark on her neck. The symbol of her bond with Damien was unmistakable, glowing faintly under the morning light as if it held a life of its own.
Heads turned as she walked with confident grace to the table, where breakfast was already being served. Scarlett, seated near the end of the table with a blanket draped over her shoulders, froze the moment her eyes landed on the mark.
Her lips pressed into a thin line, her hand clenching the edge of the table. She looked pale, her skin pale and eyes heavy with fatigue. Yet even in her weakened state, the
