[Elora]
My breath hitched as the last threads of magic from the circle settled over my skin like a silken veil. The circle in the garden, drawn with herbs and intention, had long since dimmed, its glowing lines now a mirrored echo of faint impressions on the stone floor, but its effect lingered—intimate, electric, tethered.
I could still feel it, profoundly: Vernon’s cool calm beneath his regal stillness, a deep, ancient well of serenity; Sylas’ simmering heat coiled tight behind his quiet exterior, a vibrant, almost dangerous energy. And my own heart, beating too fast, a frantic drum against my ribs, caught between these two powerful currents.
We hadn't spoken yet. Not really. Not since the words of love had tumbled from my lips, unbidden and true. The three of us knelt inside the now-
