“Alora, please look at me.”
She didn’t. She couldn’t. The pain ringing through the bond made him shake.
They had only been together one day, and he already broke her heart.
“No one could ever replace you,” Rune whispered, his thumb brushing the corner of her mouth. “Not in this life. Not in a thousand.”
Her brows drew together, and her palm came up to cup his wrists. Her voice broke as she said, “But youtried.”
Rune had no answer.
Alora pulled his hands off and slipped away from his touch, disappearing into the shadows like breath into wind.
CHAPTER 60
Alora
Karag Dûr welcomed Alora with a soft hum as she entered her old chambers.
It was dark, the heavy curtains drawn against the morning sun. Cold air lingered from weeks of disuse. When she entered, the hearth blazed to life, and a weary smile touched her lips.
“Thank you, old friend.”
The moss carpet was still lush and green. The bed was neatly made, untouched, the pillows fluffed, as if the mountain itself had merely been waiting for her return. And at the center of it lay the old corn-husk doll.
It belonged to a girl she no longer was.
Alora’s gaze dropped to her body. Seven spare her, she was still nude, wrapped only in torn sheets. Faint bruises bloomed along her thighs where Rune’s claws had held her tightly. A blush rushed to her cheeks despite the chill. A dull ache lingeredlow in her belly, that delicious soreness still relishing the night before.
Memory rose unbidden.
His mouth. His hands. The way his voice shook when confessing that he loved her.
She crossed to the vanity and looked into the mirror.
Her hair fell in golden tangles, lips swollen, bite marks dark against her neck. He had unleashed himself upon her last night. Gods. Was this how she had appeared in front of Sunnëva?
Seven above.
Alora reached for the brush and dragged it through her hair with more force than necessary.
Foolish. Foolish to feel so betrayed. Rune had believed her dead. He had been empty and alone. Of course there had been others to fill that void. She had no right to fault him for it.
And yet.
The thought of him touching another woman made her chest ache.
Last night had been special. It was the moment all walls fell, and she had finally seen something as precious as his truth. She could not stomach the thought of him sharing that with anyone else.
With a slow breath, Alora set the brush down and glanced at the ceiling. “Karag Dûr, could you start the bath for me, please?—”
The room changed.
At first it was only pressure, as though the air had thickened. Then it dropped all at once, a crushing weight that pinned her in place.
Alora body froze mid-motion, hand numb around the brush. Her breath caught and her lungs refused to draw another.
Cold slid down her spine.
