Eldur's POV
Four days.
That's how long we had.
Four days of silence that was anything but quiet.
The castle, once filled with gentle echoes of laughter and teasing, now thrummed with something darker—preparation, tension, the heavy breath before a storm.
I stood at the balcony, arms folded, my eyes scanning the valley below. The wind brushed through my hair like it was trying to soothe me. It failed.
Nova still lay in that cursed bed, still breathing—barely—but she hadn't stirred once. And every second she stayed asleep felt like a dagger twisting slowly through my ribs.
I never thought I could love someone this much. I never thought I could fear so much.
And Margaret?
She would burn.
********
My father was the first to erupt.
Adrian Daegon—stoic even in the depths of madness—lost his grip on calm the moment Elizabeth spoke that cursed name.
