Draven's pov
Kira's voice was poison, slow and insidious. She didn't need to shout or make a scene,her words slipped in like smoke, curling around my mind until I could barely breathe. "What if she uses the baby to control you?" she whispered, her eyes gleaming with cruel satisfaction.
I shut her out. I had to. I couldn't afford to listen to her lies, not when Eira was already twisting my world into knots. But Kira's poison lingered, stubborn and unwelcome, settling deep in the shadows of my thoughts.
That night, the mansion felt colder than usual. Eira didn't come to dinner, and the absence of her presence was a sharp sting I couldn't ignore. I sat through the meal, but my appetite died before the first bite. The flicker of torchlight seemed dull, and every scrape of cutlery echoed like a mocking reminder of the silence she left behind.
I stood abruptly. "Enough." I left the hall and headed straight for her chambers. Alone.
