The next day, and the day after, Enzo kept replaying Arabella's request in his mind.
He remembered the night she had been kidnapped. He couldn't sleep or think properly. He had spent all those nights in his private training room because he needed somewhere to put his thoughts, somewhere he could escape the suffocating pressure inside his own head.
And when he finally found her at the point of death, something inside him had snapped.
He had an heir. For one brief moment, he had finally had the one thing he had spent centuries believing he could never have due to his madness whenever he was on rut.
Then, just as quickly as he had discovered it, he lost it.
Now Arabella's identity had been exposed, and she still knew nothing about what the lords were demanding from him.
Enzo sighed as he left his chamber and headed toward the Grand Hall.
