Elara POV
Kaelen's voice hit the room like a blade cutting through breath.
Not loud.
Not angry.
Just there — deep, rough, too close.
"Elara!"
The sound of my name in his voice made my whole chest twist. My knees nearly buckled. Mira grabbed my arm to keep me steady. Theron moved in front of me without hesitation, standing between me and the door like he expected a wolf to break through the walls.
The linen around my wrist glowed again — a bright, sharp flash that burned through the wrap.
"Hide it," Mira whispered, pushing the sleeve down. "Hide it now."
I tried. My fingers wouldn't stop shaking.
Another knock hit the wood. Hard.
Too hard.
"Elara—open the door."
Kaelen's voice was rougher now, the kind he used when he was trying not to break something.
I pressed my palm against my chest. "He can feel the mark coming. He thinks I'm hurt."
"You are hurt," Mira said. "And if he sees the glow—"
"He'll think I let Theron touch me," I whispered.
Silence answered that.
