One week later, Isla found herself in the same familiar yet overwhelming environment, the grand hall of Lucian’s mansion. The atmosphere was tense but cloaked in an air of formality as the elders, Lucian’s mother, and the Quinn family gathered to discuss the marriage proceedings and the mate bond.
The room buzzed with hushed conversations as servants moved swiftly to ensure everyone was comfortable. Isla sat at the far end of the hall, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. Her heart pounded, not just from the significance of the meeting but from the lingering frustration and hurt that had built up over the past week.
She had messaged and called Lucian repeatedly, seeking answers, seeking clarity. But there had been nothing, no replies, no acknowledgment. The silence from him was deafenin
