King’s POV

After she left, the hall felt too still.

The echo of Aurora’s footsteps faded into silence, but her presence lingered like the scent of storm rain, sharp, clean and impossible to forget.

I stood there for a while, gazing at the half-closed door. The air still shimmered faintly with the residual energy she’d stirred, heat from her wolf, tempered with something older, wilder. Power restrained, but not subdued.

Then my eyes dropped to the faint crimson stain on the sleeve of her ...