I gently massaged Alaric's hand, working my thumbs into his palm. His skin felt warmer now, the chill finally leaving his body as he sat before the crackling fire. The glow cast shadows across his face, highlighting the exhaustion etched there.
"Are you certain you're not hurt?" I examined his knuckles for any signs of injury. After his sudden return and our passionate reunion, my mind had cleared enough to worry about what exactly had transpired during his absence.
Alaric's lips curved into a faint smile. "I'm fine, Isabella. The confrontation with Lord Gideon was... unexpected, but not particularly violent. At least not for me."
"What happened?" I shifted closer, never stopping the rhythmic press of my fingers against his hand.
He sighed, leaning his head back against the chair. "Theron and I mostly stood witness. Lord Gideon's own son confronted him. It seems his father's transgressions were too numerous to ignore any longer."
"His son?" I hadn't expected that.
