Emma's POV:
Ethan's palace rises before us—tall stone towers reaching toward stars, windows glowing with amber light. The architecture speaks of ancient power and refinement. Nothing like Lucian's blood-red mansion with its cage aesthetic.
'This is where he lives.'
We dismount in a quiet courtyard. Ethan's hand comes to my waist to steady me, warm through my torn dress. The contact is brief—barely a heartbeat—but it sends warmth racing up my spine. Then he steps back quickly, putting careful distance between us.
The sudden absence feels like loss.
"We need to discuss your situation," he says quietly, eyes fixed somewhere over my shoulder rather than on my face.
His tone is businesslike. Like I'm some problem to solve rather than a person he risked everything to rescue.
"My situation
