Silence roared. The papers from the folder thrown against the wall still lay scattered across the floor, ripping the moment apart, as if the entire day, the entire week— their entire relationship—had shattered. Dareth stood frozen. His chest rose and fell, his shoulders tense—but not with anger. That had faded. All that remained was the crushing weight of realization.
Elara knelt before him on the floor... no, she crouched—hunched over, defensive, as if bracing for a blow, an insult, a punishment from his mere presence. Watching her like that broke something inside him.
He stared, unable to fully process the moment. Then... something stirred within him. Not a thought, not an emotion—but the bond. The blood‑bond they shared, which until now he'd felt as a quiet, restless hum between them,
