Upstairs, Jaxon watched with relief as his mother finally drifted into sleep after taking the pills. His heart settled. Thankfully, they had Arabelle now; Liora was nothing worth remembering.
A woman who couldn’t even compare to a maid had no place standing beside someone like Arabelle.
What they didn’t realize was that Ella was allergic to ibuprofen.
On the other side, I followed Tessa into a secluded courtyard. The air was still, the surroundings calm, and it was an ideal place for recovery.
As we pushed open the door, a slender figure came into view. Medical equipment surrounded him, and several private nurses moved quietly around the room.
Rigel’s skin was so pale that the blue of his veins peeked through, undoubtedly from years spent away from sunlight. His features were striking and sharp, like a sculpture chiseled in silence. With his eyes closed, the sharpness of his brows and the intensity of his gaze had softened into peace.
At an age when he should have been vibrant and alive, he had instead spent years trapped in a silent slumber.