Chapter 196

Elvira

The night pressed stretched on, thick with shadows and the faint scent of rain that had fallen hours earlier. I couldn’t sleep. Not that sleep was really the issue,  it was my mind, my heart, the relentless pulling of memories and regrets that refused to let me rest. I turned over in my bed, trying to ease the ache in my chest, trying to convince myself that tomorrow would be enough. That maybe tomorrow I will be too late.

Weeks of pushing him away, of need to find him, talk to him, to explain. But the truth I could no longer escape was that tomorrow had him at arm’s length, of pretending I didn’t care… it had built walls between us that felt insurmountable. And yet here I was, unable to resist the pull any longer. The thought of him haunted me with a constant, sharp ache, like the edge of a blade pressed against my ribs. Every moment I had spent avoiding him, denying him, had only made me more desperate to see him, to make things right, to touch him again.

I swung my legs over the edge of the bed, bare feet meeting the cold wood floor, and shivered. Perhaps a bath would ease the storm in my mind, drown the relentless thoughts that threatened to consume me. I lit candles, letting their soft, flickering light chase the shadows from the corners of my room. Steam curled from the water as I sank into the tub, allowing the warmth to envelop me. I closed my eyes and tried to imagine it washing away everything—the guilt, the longing, the memories I had pushed aside for far too long.

But even as I soaked in the heat, the water lapping against my skin, my mind refused to settle. Every shadow behind my eyelids transformed into him. Every corner of the room seemed to hold his presence, every whisper of wind pressed against my ears like his voice calling to me. I tried to focus on the rhythm of my breathing, but the images of him, his hair falling in dark waves over his brow, the tension in his shoulders, the strength in his arms—were relentless.

I remembered the first time he had saved me, lifting me from the forest floor as the rogues had circled, his voice steady and unwavering. I remembered the way he had protected me, not just from them, but from my own fragility, my own pain. And I remembered our first kiss, the hesitation, the fire, the weight of promises unspoken. And then… the curse, the distance, the heartbreak I had forced between us.

I gasped and splashed water onto the floor as the memory hit me with full force. I had remembered too late. I had left him to wrestle with my absence, my silence, my fear. I had let him bear the pain of my choices alone, and now I could feel it like a physical wound, a sharp, aching emptiness that would not let me rest.

I stayed in the bath until the water cooled, my fingers wrinkled, the warmth fading into a clammy chill. I toweled off slowly, wrapping myself in a robe and pacing the room, unable to stay still. Each step echoed in the still night, every corner of the room taunting me with the certainty that I had waited far too long. But the need to see him, to bridge the distance, to feel the connection that had never truly broken, was stronger than my fear.

Finally, I couldn’t bear it any longer. I slipped from my room, careful to tread lightly on the polished floors, each step deliberate, cautious. The tower was still, the halls darkened except for the faint glow of torches along the walls. I asked the guards if they had seen him, peered into empty rooms, checked the corridors. Each answer shook me further—no, he hadn’t been seen, he wasn’t anywhere around. My chest tightened with the fear that maybe he had disappeared entirely, that I had waited too long.

Then, as I turned a corner near the training grounds, I froze.

There he was.

Jaxon. Alone. The moonlight fell across the grounds in soft silver streaks, catching on the sheen of sweat along his skin, the taut muscles of his arms moving with precise, controlled rhythm. The sound of the leather striking the punching bag echoed faintly, each thud resonating in my chest like the beat of my own heart. He was a storm of motion, intensity, and restrained power, every strike a silent expression of the emotions he had kept locked away.

I took a hesitant step forward, my boots making no sound on the dewy grass. My breath caught in my throat, and I swallowed hard. He looked… perfect and impossibly broken all at once. I had imagined this moment countless times, but nothing could have prepared me for the sight of him here, alive, real, and so achingly present.