Lucian hadn’t moved from where he sat against the tree. His eyes were closed, his face turned up toward the winter sun. The weak rays couldn’t penetrate the chill of the cold air. Three days had passed since Disir had left him sitting in front of the draheim veil. He’d gone hunting a couple of times, taking just enough sustenance to keep himself alive. Other than that, he hadn’t left his vigil. For a fleeting moment, he’d felt her. Her presence had been faint, but he knew it was her, and the bond was intact.
Over and over, Lucian replayed in his mind their last argument. Sometimes, he regretted the words he’d spoken in anger. Other times, he knew they needed to be said. He loved his mate with a fierceness he’d never thought possible. And it was because of that love that he refused to simp
