Soraya's POV
The chains were cold.
Not merely against my wrists, but inside my bones, as if the iron had remembered every time I had ever been bound before and decided to make itself at home in me. I stood in the center of the throne room with my spine straight and my chin lifted because I had learned long ago that fear only fed men like kings and courtiers.
But inside, I was shaking.
Not because of the chains.
Because of him.
Alderon.
I felt him before I saw him. Felt the heat of his anger slice through the room the moment the doors opened. His presence had always done that to me—anchored me, steadied me, made the world feel less sharp around the edges.
Now it cut.
When he saw me, I felt the snap of it. The way the air changed. The way his fury surged so violently it almost knocked the breath from my lungs.
Why is she chained?
The sound of his voice wrapped around my heart and crushed it.
