Felicity's POV

The knock on my chamber door was soft, almost hesitant.

I knew who it was before I opened it. The bond—that cursed, twisted thing that had chained us together for three years—told me. Even now, frayed and poisoned as it was, I could still feel him on the other side.

I opened the door.

Theron stood there, and for the first time in years, he didn't look like a king. His shoulders were slumped, his eyes shadowed with exhaustion. He wore no crown, no formal attire—just a ...