Bastian’s Pov

I woke up before she did. The bed was cold on my side. I had spent most of the night in a chair by the fire, watching her sleep. She was so small in my large bed. Her breathing was shallow and sometimes she would cough in her sleep, a weak, rattling sound. She looked like a strong wind could break her. I had been sent a fragile bird, not a mate. This was the price of peace. I stood up and walked to the bed, looking down at her. Her auburn hair was spread out on the pillow like a pool of blood. She was beautiful, I...