Lorenzo
The halls were quiet as I made my way to her.
It was the kind of quiet that was never complete, not in Cold Ridge. The walls still hummed with life—guards pacing on the outer walkways, the creak of beams settling, the distant growl of wolves patrolling the edge of the forest. But compared to the constant noise of the day, it felt like silence.
Silence, except for her.
Through the bond, I could feel her.
Every heartbeat, every sharp breath, every tremor of doubt she tried to hide from herself. It tugged at me, restless and raw, pulling me down the corridor until I stood before her door.
I lifted my hand and knocked, the sound echoing against the wood.
For a moment, there was nothing. Then her voice, low and sharp through the barrier between us.
“What do you want?”
I closed
