Nevara
For a moment, I could only stare at him.
Not because I was afraid or because I suddenly saw him differently.
But because the amount of pain sitting in front of me felt almost unbearable.
Thoren looked wrecked.
Not physically.
Emotionally shattered in a way I had never seen before, like the foundation beneath his entire life had cracked open and left him standing in the ruins trying to figure out what was still real.
The bond between us pulsed violently with guilt, grief, panic, and confusion so intense it made my own chest ache in response.
“I killed him,” he said again quietly, like repeating it aloud somehow made it more real. “Goddess, Nevara, I killed my own father.”
I tightened my grip on his hands immediately.
“Hey.” My voice came out firmer this time. “Look at me.”
