As Ethan spoke his words of welcome, the throne room fell into an unnatural stillness. The low murmurs, the rustle of fabric, even the sound of breathing seemed to vanish. The world around Emma dimmed, the gilded walls and gathered dignitaries dissolving into a blur, until there was only her… and him.
Ethan sat upon his throne, the embodiment of composure—yet what she saw went far beyond the man.
Before her loomed a vast, towering presence, seated upon an ethereal throne that seemed to stretch into infinity. Its gaze bore down upon her like the weight of a mountain. This was not the calm, protective aura she had sensed the night before. No, this was different—denser, heavier, a silent declaration of dominance.
