A deep silence settled over the castle's grand entrance as Vesarius Rage caught her in his arms. For a moment, he didn't move, his crimson eyes scanning her pale, drenched form. Her skin was deathly cold, her lips trembling from exhaustion and the relentless downpour that still raged outside. The woman—this fragile, battered woman—had come back to him, bloodied, desperate. And she whispered those words.
Something inside him tightened, something he didn't quite understand.
Without another second of hesitation, he lifted her with ease, cradling her against his chest as he stepped over the threshold, into the dimly lit halls of his domain. The doors groaned as they shut behind him, sealing out the storm, trapping them within the eerie stillness of his castle.
The scent of blood and rain clung to her. Rage inhaled sharply. He strode through the cavernous halls, his footsteps echoing against the cold stone floors.
