A few hours had passed since the rescue.
Jax stood in a lavish room, staring at a beautiful woman with golden hair and warm brown eyes. She carried herself with royal grace, the kind that came from a lifetime of privilege and power.
Seris's aunt. Sister of the late King Theron. The man Jax had considered his rival, though the bastard had never known it.
Around them stood Astrid, Seris, and Roxana, all watching the scene unfold. And on the royal bed behind them, covered in fresh silk sheets, lay Adelina.
Healers had worked on her for hours. Changed her clothes, cleaned her wounds, forced more potions down her throat. Her face was still pale, almost translucent, like a porcelain doll that might shatter at any moment.
But she was out of danger. That's what the healers had said. All she needed now was rest and proper food.
'She's alive. She's safe. That should be enough.'
But it wasn't.
