The room was bathed in the soft glow of candlelight, shadows flickering lazily across the walls. The air was thick with the faint scent of jasmine, a fragrance meant to calm and entice, but tonight it felt suffocating.
Elian sat near the window, his face half-hidden in shadow, his eyes distant and glassy, as if his soul had detached from his body. His thoughts seemed far away, lost in some painful place, his chest rising and falling with shallow, steady breaths. He appeared more broken now than ever, the weight of his fate crushing him into someone barely recognizable.
Izan hesitated in the doorway, his breath catching in his throat. His heart twisted painfully at the sight of Elian, his body still, his spirit fractured. Elian looked nothing like the lovely, fiery man he had fallen for. Now, he seemed smaller, hollowed out by the betrayal of the world around him, no, by his betrayal.
