Chapter Twelve – Echoes of Turmoil
Evandra
The ropes chafed her wrists, raw and stinging, but they weren’t what kept her awake.
It was him.
Even with stone walls between them, even with distance and silence, she could feel him. A restless storm thrumming at the edge of her thoughts—like a drumbeat that wasn’t hers, pounding, circling, pacing. Every turn he made in his office, she felt as an ache beneath her skin.
Her tears had dried hours ago, leaving her hollow. But now the hollow filled with something else, something she didn’t want.
Tristan.
Her chest tightened, and Sage whimpered inside her. Do you feel it? the wolf whispered, voice trembling with desperate hope. He’s torn. He’s thinking of us.
Evandra pressed her eyes shut. “Stop,” she whispered hoarsely, shaking her head.
