The Grand Solstice Banquet had quieted into the late hours, but the tension in the hall remained electric. Guests lingered at the tables, conversations low and watchful, as if everyone could feel the storm brewing beneath the surface. Elara sat with Lord Rowan’s arm still protectively around her, the silver thread between their wrists glowing faintly. His touch was steady and kind — never demanding, never rough.
She felt the shift inside her growing stronger. Kaelen’s repeated claiming had left her feeling deeply abused, not loved. The warm, degrading leak of his c*m inside her no longer sparked any desire — only shame and fear that she might already carry his child. She wanted out. She wanted gentleness. She wanted real love.
Rowan noticed her quietness and leaned closer, voice soft. “Y
