Chapter 41
The morning sun crept slowly over the French countryside, casting golden light through the aged windows of the chateau. The old estate was silent except for the distant chirp of birds and the faint hum of the wind slipping between the cracks of ancient stone walls. Quinn stirred awake, his chest already tight before his eyes even opened. The weight of what he needed to do pressed against him like armor. He swung his legs off the bed, rubbing a hand over his face. The events of the previous night haunted his thoughts—Petra’s story about Nickoli, the raw pain in her words, the flickers of emotion he’d seen buried in Sasha’s guarded eyes. He had to find her. He had to tell her. He pulled on his shirt, slipped into his boots, and stepped into the quiet hallway. His footsteps echoed lightly
- Writer
