Camila's POV
The moment we stepped into the estate, everything felt… surreal.
The towering walls, the scent of polished wood and lavender, the warm fire crackling in the hearth—it all should have felt comforting. Safe. But I still felt the weight of chains around my wrists, still heard the growl of Davorin echoing in my mind. My body ached with bruises and exhaustion, but my heart was the part most shaken.
Until his hand tightened around mine.
Nathaniel hadn't let me go since the moment he broke through the ruins. Even as warriors and pack doctors swarmed around us, even when Theo tried to pull him aside to discuss Davorin's remaining rogue followers, he never let go. I was his anchor. And now, he was mine.
"Come," he whispered, guiding me upstairs, past curious glances and hushed whispers. "You need to rest. I'll stay."
We entered his room—our room now, I supposed—and I sank onto the edge of the bed, my muscles trembling from the adrenaline crash.
