The walk from the Grand Banquet Hall to the Royal Super-Suite was a masterclass in agonizing restraint.
Aeron did not run. He was the King of Arindale, and Kings did not sprint through their own corridors. But his stride was punishingly long, his arm wrapped like an iron band around Kaia's waist, practically carrying her over the polished marble floors.
Guards snapped to attention. Courtiers pressed themselves flat against the tapestries. They all saw the terrifying, blank mask of the Paragon, completely unaware of the raging, untamed beast clawing at the inside of his chest.
"Aeron, I cannot breathe," Kaia gasped softly, her midnight-blue velvet skirts snapping around her ankles as she struggled to keep up.
"You don't need to breathe," Aeron murmured, his voice a low, vibrating hum meant only for her. "You just need to walk."
