The morning light poured softly through the tall windows of the estate, spilling across polished floors and gilded furniture. Selara moved with a quiet grace, walking down the wide hallway toward the garden. Her mind was restless, tangled with thoughts she refused to name aloud. Each step felt deliberate, controlled like a predator learning patience.
The estate's gardens were quiet at this hour, dew clinging to the petals of roses and lilies. The air smelled faintly of jasmine and wet earth. Selara stopped at the fountain at the center, letting the sound of trickling water fill the silence around her. For a moment, she allowed herself a pause, her silver veins glimmering faintly in the soft sunlight.
"Selara."
The voice was calm but commanding, and she didn't need to turn to know it was Draven. He stepped into the clearing, eyes gold and sharp as sunlight caught in his hair.
"You're up early," she said, her voice even, but a trace of tension lingered beneath the calm surface.
