~LENORA'S POV
YEARS LATER…
"How long exactly am I supposed to keep doing this before something happens?"
My voice bounced through Alaric's private meditation chamber, and judging by the fact that his expression didn't so much as twitch, I already knew I was testing whatever impossible level of patience came with being an ancient demon king.
We sat across from each other on black stone, surrounded by flickering runes and enough silence to make me feel like I was personally offending history.
"Concentrate, Dove." He said without opening his eyes.
I stared at him.
No, genuinely, I stared.
Because concentrating would have been significantly easier if my husband was not sitting there looking like some unfairly attractive divine punishment with silver mist curling around him, his hair tied back, his shoulders relaxed, and his entire existence radiating irritating perfection.
"I am concentrating," I said.
His brow lifted. "You are glaring."
"That's a form of concentration."
