The night outside was still and quiet, the faint hum of crickets providing the only soundtrack to the otherwise serene world. Inside the cozy guest room at the Khysarel residence, Alaric lay on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. The plush mattress beneath him should have been comforting, but his mind refused to settle. Iridelle's confession weighed heavily on him, her pain and hopelessness lingering in his thoughts. He couldn't stop replaying her words, imagining the horrors she had endured and the strength it must have taken to protect Natasha.
