Esteria woke the next morning with the thought of Vincent haunting her like a shadow. His face, his voice, the way his presence alone had frozen her in fear. How could she ever hope to fight him, let alone kill him, if just sensing him nearby could make her feel so weak? She clenched her fists, frustrated with herself. Her body shivered at the memory of the night before, the pain from her wedding night resurfacing like a cruel echo.
She was about to sit up when she realized something—there was a solid, warm presence wrapped around her. A deep, slow breath warmed her neck, sending a gentle vibration through her. Her heart skipped a beat as she turned her head carefully, trying to see who it was. And there he was, lying beside her.
