#Chapter 53: A Secret Meeting

Elara Alaric’s lips were warm, firm, and tasted as dark and rich as spiced whiskey. For a moment, it felt like the world had shifted, tilting into something softer—something that made sense. I could feel his heartbeat through his shirt, the steady thrum pulling me closer. But then Alaric stiffened. His hand, the one resting lightly against the small of my back, withdrew as if I had burned him. I barely had time to open my eyes before he was already pulling back, his gaze dark and unreadable. “What are you doing?” His voice was calm, too calm. The kind of calm that felt cold, like a steel door slamming shut for good. I blinked, disoriented. “I thought—” “I’m sorry.” Alaric shook his head, stepping back far enough that the night air crept into the space between us, making me feel suddenly cold. His expression didn’t shift, but something flickered behind his eyes. Regret, maybe? Or worse—pity. The weight of his next words felt heavier than the sil