The market square had returned to ordinary bustle, merchants shouting their wares, children darting between stalls, and the mundane sounds of the village filling the air. Yet for Elara, nothing felt ordinary. Every footstep, every breath, every sound seemed to echo inside her, magnifying the lingering heat, the ache, and the bond that pulsed beneath her skin like a living thing.She had surrendered—completely, utterly—at the edge of public discovery. The memory of the prince pressing her to ...