Aria stood still, her pulse loud in her ears, her eyes fixed on the doors where her stepmother had just disappeared into.

It was only when she heard the sound of Lucien’s feet hitting the ground that she remembered how to breathe. She turned towards her mate and, once again, froze.

He was crossing the marble floors of the throne room without his usual arrogant stride. Instead, his movements were more muted, careful and deliberate, as though he didn’t want to alarm her.

His cane, a piece which she still did not understand, tapped softly with each step he took. His eyes searched hers with an expression stripped of every...