Cyril swallowed. He had imagined this moment once, in quieter fantasies he never dared confess. From the first day he saw her standing in the courtyard of the Blackwood estate, wind tangling her hair, he had known she was not ordinary.
He had thought, foolishly, that one day he might be the man to stand beside her. That he would ask her for her hand.
Then the Alpha had claimed her.
Cyril forced himself to breathe. "How long?" he asked quietly.
"I don't know. Until the Alpha gets me out of his system." Sera's shrug was deceptively casual. If she remained an obsession, she would never be free. If she became inaccessible, perhaps he would finally choose pride over possession.
Cyril saw the tremor she tried to hide, the quiet war behind her composure. He glanced toward Claudia, seeking a measure of reassurance. Claudia simply shrugged. "Alright. Fine," Cyril said at last. "Let's hope that happens soon anyway."
