The air was thick with fury as Xaden stormed out of his room, the echo of the slammed door still reverberating through the hallway.
His chest heaved with pain—physical and emotional—and his fists were clenched so tight his knuckles cracked.
He didn't get far before a voice called out behind him, smooth and familiar.
"Xaden."
He turned sharply.
Uncle Uther.
The man walked toward him with a wide grin, arms already open for an embrace.
"By the goddess, you're alive," Uther said, pulling him into a hug before he could react. "I thought I'd lost you, nephew."
Xaden was stiff at first, still caught up in the whirlwind of anger, but eventually he returned the hug.
Not because he wanted to—but because it was expected.
He was overwhelmed with emotion and he knew that they all cared about him.
But all he cared about at the moment was Jasmine.
