CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE

ALARIC’S POV

The first thing I noticed was how quiet she had become. Not the awkward kind of silence. Not the angry one either. It was the soft, fragile quiet of someone holding too much inside and afraid it might spill if they spoke too loud. Elara sat across from me, fingers curled around a grape, eyes refusing to meet mine for more than a heartbeat.

“So what’s it like?” I asked, my voice low, steady, even though my chest was anything but.

She looked up, ...