NYQXEE’S POV
After what happened during dinner, not a single soul so much as looked my way. Not a glance, not a whisper of acknowledgment. It was as if I had melted into the wallpaper transparent, weightless, unnecessary. I didn’t blame them. Honestly, if I could avoid myself, I would. Shame has a way of clinging to your skin, seeping into your bones. You wear it like a second skin one you never asked for.
Now, we’re in King Quennor’s suite, nestled in the cozy salon just off the side of his massive quarters. It’s warm here. The golden chandelier above us casts a soft, amber glow across the plush carpets and velvet couches, diffusing the weight in my chest just enough for me to breathe again.
Across from me, the three of them Vivian, Quenn, and Beta Ismael have already settled into the
