ALARIC POV
They both slipped out, Owen already halfway to the door, Ella following slower, but still close, still watching me out of the corner of her eye like she was making sure I was going to follow.
I did.
Of course I did.
Every step felt heavier than it should have, not from exhaustion, not from injury, but from everything stacking up inside my head at once, pressing, overlapping, refusing to settle into anything I could actually act on.
Aria.
The auction.
Cami.
I stepped into the kitchen—
And immediately caught a mug straight to the chest.
Hot.
Not enough to burn.
Enough to make a point.
I didn’t even flinch.
Didn’t react.
Just looked down at the coffee soaking into my shirt, then slowly lifted my gaze.
Martha.
Ah.
Right.
She stood there with her arms crossed, jaw
