The next day felt like hell, alex's head was throbbing like crazy and he barely closed an eyes that night. He knew liam was speaking but he could barely hear anything. After kissing him goodbye liam left early and alex just sat at the balcony of his room rethinking his life, he had rented out a new appartment away from the drama to rest a little.
The storm teased its arrival: distant thunder rolling beneath low-slung clouds, and wind whispering in the eaves of the centuries‑old manor. Within, candle flames flickered, trying to stand firm against the gray wash of dusk. Liam stalked through hushed corridors, each footstep echoing with an electric weight. He was tense—taut muscles, tight jaw, fists crushed into invisible steel. The stories of his youth—golden bloodlines, velvet drapes, ancestors watching with painted eyes—all whispering betrayal.