Elara gasped in horror, her eyes fixed on the deep crimson stain marring the pristine white satin sheets. Her heart pounded in her chest as a wave of panic crashed over her. Blood. Not from a battle or injury—but her own. The realization hit her like a slap to the face.
"Shit! no, no," she whispered frantically, her mind racing. This was Ravenor's bed. His freaking bed, in his grand, untouched room. And now... it was ruined.
She clutched the edge of the bed, staring helplessly at the stain that was growing larger by the second. Of all the days—of all the moments—for this to happen, it had to be now. Just her pure, great, luck. She quickly pressed her legs together, feeling another wave of discomfort as more blood trickled out.
