Dorian's POV

We rode in silence for what felt like hours.

The wind whipped through the trees, a low howl that echoed the tension between us. Tiberius kept to the front, his jaw tight, hands rigid on the reins. Selene rode beside me, her shoulders hunched, eyes darting every few seconds as if Alaric himself might leap from the shadows.

She was different now—quieter. Humbled. But there was something more in her, something wounded and desperate. I saw it in the way she ...