Dorian‘s pov.

We rode out at dawn.

Tiberius didn’t say a word.

His eyes burned with something between fury and betrayal, and his silence screamed louder than any words. I saw the judgment in his gaze, and damn it, maybe I deserved it.

We rode hard and fast, our horses carrying us through forests and hills, through broken sun and shadow. There was no time for talk, no space for remorse. Only the sound of hooves pounding and the sharp weight of what we’d left ...