Killian
The silence in my office is unbearable.
Grace is gone.
The scent of her still lingers—salt and fire, jasmine and storm—but the warmth of her presence has vanished. She had left in a blaze of light, her promise echoing in my ears: “When I return, I’ll be your Queen.”
My heart is breaking inside my chest at the thought that I may never see her again. I don’t know how to live without Grace, not now that I know what it’s like to have her in my arms, to hear her telling me that she loves me.
I waited years to hear those words from Grace. I waited even longer to tell her how much I loved her.
What the hell will I do without her?
I stand, staring at the place where she had disappeared. My heart thunders in my chest, but it isn’t fear that grips me. It’s the knowledge of what comes
