The carriage rolled smoothly over the cobblestone streets, its wheels creaking with the rhythm of travel. The scent of the sea, salty and briny, hung heavy in the air, blending with the unnerving metallic tang of dried blood that seemed to permeate the carriage.
Leo sat across from me, his large frame slouched against the plush velvet cushions, eyes closed, looking almost peaceful despite the bloody morning shower he had returned from.
It hadn't been long since he stormed into the manor, his cloak dripping with blood and his face like a storm cloud. He hadn't said a word to me about this.
I still couldn't understand what had happened, but I wasn't foolish enough to ask questions. His rage had been palpable, and I had no idea what it was directed at. But it had to have something to do with me, didn't it?
After all, I was the one who had dared to hug him last night.
