The space between Maddox and me was no longer silence; it was avoidance.
He didn’t say much the morning after the council meeting. Barely looked at me when I entered the war chamber.
His shoulders were rigid, arms crossed behind his back like he was preparing to be struck. When I approached, he stepped away.
When I spoke, he gave clipped answers, never meeting my eyes.
Whatever fragile understanding we’d begun to build had shattered, and he was the one sweeping up the pieces before I could reach them.
By dusk, he’d vanished completely.
Ivara claimed he’d gone hunting. But the way she said it, guarded, as if that word meant something else, I knew she was lying. Or protecting him.
Maybe both.
But I wasn’t the one who needed protecting.
I needed answers.
Maddox’s study was cold w
