A wave of sadness washed over Serena as his words lingered in the air. The weight behind them settled on her shoulders, heavy and raw.
She understood now, in a way she hadn't fully grasped before, how and why he carried himself with such quiet torment. He wasn't merely battling the judgment of others; he was wrestling with himself, trapped in the prison of his own guilt.
She, too, had judged him once—long before they had exchanged more than a few words, when all she had to go on were the rumors and whispered tales about Lucian Draven. And no one who heard those stories could resist the pull of condemnation. His reputation was laced with fear, with darkness, with the kind of mystery that did not invite sympathy.
Yet here he was. Human in his silence. Fragile beneath his armor. And hurting far more than he let on.
