Because somewhere along the way Elena Vaughn had learned that kindness always came with conditions.
And that realization bothered him more than he expected.
"Believe it or not," he finally said, returning his attention to the stove, "this isn't about protecting myself."
Elena remained silent.
Alaric stirred the food before adding quietly,
"You're exhausting, Elena. But I'd rather not watch you burn yourself alive proving how independent you are."
For the first time since entering the kitchen—
Elena didn't have a response ready.
And somehow, that silence felt more meaningful than any argument they had ever had.
The kitchen fell into an unusual silence after their argument.
Not the hostile silence they had become accustomed to.
Not the sharp, suffocating kind that followed every confrontation between them.
This silence felt... different.
Awkward.
Unfamiliar.
Dangerous.
