The morning after Xander woke up felt heavier than the three days of ritual fire combined.
Sunlight streamed through the tall windows of the sacred chamber, casting golden patterns across the rumpled furs and silk sheets. The room still carried the faint scent of herbs, sweat, and passion, but the air between Claire and Xander had grown thick with something colder — uncertainty.
Xander sat propped against the headboard, his body still weak but healing rapidly thanks to the completed bond. Claire sat a short distance away on the edge of the bed, wrapped in a silk robe, her knees drawn to her chest. The physical closeness from the ritual lingered in the way their bond glowed warmly, but emotionally, there was a visible gap between them.
“I keep replaying that night in my head,” Claire sai
