Third Person P.O.V.
The house was silent, but not with peace—silence the kind that came after a storm, heavy and raw, where every heart was still thundering inside its cage of ribs.
Mason sat hunched forward on the edge of the chair, his face shadowed, his fists clenched so tight his knuckles were white. His breaths came unevenly, shallow, as though the air itself was too thick to inhale.
Bella stayed kneeling in front of him, her hands still wrapped around his. She hadn’t let go since she’d poured out every truth she had carried inside her chest. She didn’t dare to.
His eyes were vacant, unfocused, but inside him, there was chaos.
“You’re blind,” Alastair’s voice rumbled inside his head, deep and steady like the earth itself. “And stubborn. You see betrayal everywhere but the only be
