The silence in the room stretched, heavy as stone. The sound of rain outside was the only thing that dared to move.
Kian sat on the edge of the bed, his back to her, his head lowered. The glow that had once flared through his markings was gone now, but the memory of it still lingered in the air — a faint hum, a scent of burnt air and fear.
Isabella swallowed, her throat dry. "Kian," she said softly, her voice small in the cavernous quiet.
No answer.
She hesitated for a long moment before she tried again, a little louder. "Kian, what happened?"
Her voice trembled on the last word. She pushed herself up on shaky legs, her feet brushing against the furs as she tried to approach him. But the moment she took a step closer—
"Stay away."
The words cut through the air like a blade.
