Mary Ann’s POV
Modric came to my office shortly after sunset.
I knew he was outside before he knocked.
The mate bond carried his presence through the closed door, quieter than before but still impossible to ignore. His shoulder remained injured, and the weakening poison had not fully left his body. I could feel the dull ache beneath his control.
I almost told him to go away.
Instead, I closed the report in front of me.
“Come in.”
The door opened slowly.
Modric entered alone.
No Kylian.
No guards.
No council documents in his hands.
He wore a dark shirt that concealed most of the bandage around his shoulder, but his movements remained stiff. Exhaustion shadowed his face.
He stopped several steps from my desk.
“Do you have time?”
The question surprised me.
Modric had rarely as
