CHAPTER 78
Isabella stood in the center of the room, her breath hitching as she realized she had looped again.
The air was thick and warm, smelling of cedar and safety, but the peace felt fragile now—like a thin layer of glass over a churning abyss.
She looked toward the bed. Caleb and Bella were there, tangled together in the sheets. This was the scene Isabella had seen in her recurring dreams—the one where the man was always a shadow, a faceless figure of comfort.
Now, seeing Caleb's face, the connection was like a lightning strike. He wasn't just a ghost; he was the source of the pull she felt in her own soul.
A sudden, sharp thud echoed from somewhere in the hallway, followed by the muffled clatter of armored boots.
The sound acted like a physical blow. Bella bolted upright, her eyes wide with a frantic, animal terror.
Caleb was awake in an instant, his hand flying to the space where his sword usually rested on the nightstand.
