Amara’s POV

The morning sun filtered through the curtains when I woke, the faint chill of winter pressing against the glass. I stretched, rubbing my eyes, only to notice something was different. The guest room door down the hall stood open. The bed was neatly made, untouched as though no one had slept in it. My heart sank. Cassian was gone.

For a moment, relief washed through me. He had listened to Grandmother, after all. But then came the heaviness—the absence, the quiet reminder that ...