The garden was a masterpiece of vibrant blooms, each petal kissed by sunlight, casting a soft, golden glow over everything.
Salviana walked among the flowers, the sweet fragrance surrounding her like an embrace.
As she moved deeper into the garden, her gaze fell on Alaric, who was crouched by a cluster of flowers, his dark hair catching the light in a way that made him look softer, almost tender.
She took a few silent steps forward, planning to tap his shoulder, but before she could reach him, he turned and caught her gaze with a small, warm smile.
"Enjoying the view?" he teased, his voice low and rich, as if he'd been waiting for her all along.
Before she could respond, he rose and, with a fluid motion, swept her up into his arms. His touch felt different, familiar yet strangely new—his fingers were bare and warmer than she'd ever felt.
