After Alaric was finished with Auralyne, the air between them softened into silence.
She closed her eyes, took a slow breath, and reached for her clothes—her fingers brushing the collar, her motions hesitant, but clearly preparing to undress.
Alaric blinked.
Then he chuckled, low and amused.
"What are you doing?"
He leaned back slightly, a teasing glint in his eyes.
"Get your mind out of the gutter."
Auralyne froze, her hand midway to her sash. Her cheeks flushed instantly, blooming red like a flame set to silk.
But Alaric's expression shifted. His gaze drifted toward the door, and he tilted his head, his voice dropping with casual clarity.
"You three as well."
Auralyne flinched.
Her eyes widened in horror, and she whipped her head toward the entrance—though the door remained closed. Still, if she listened closely...
Faint. Faint enough to be imagined.
But the whispers were there.
Then silence.
