“And don’t think I’m avoiding you because of Thessaly,” Zarelle mocked, her words laced with a sharp edge that cut to the bone. “Why do you insist on blaming everything on her? If you had any ounce of sense, any understanding that I was your wife, you wouldn’t harm your own wife for another woman. You’re unworthy of being a husband, let alone a man. It was I who bled profusely, enduring all the rumors. If I weren’t a Feymere, I might have been driven to an early grave by now. Calden, you fail to grasp that it’s all because of your actions.”
Each word was a dagger, precisely aimed and deeply embedded.
With those cutting words, Zarelle turned her back on Calden and left with Elsa, her steps resolute and unwavering, her heels clicking against the floor like punctuation marks.
She d
