The sky cracked open without warning, releasing a downpour that drenched the world in a heavy, ashen gray. Lightning tore across the heavens, searing through the clouds before vanishing, leaving behind a lingering, endless unease.
Lucian stood beside the tall window on the upper floor, a glass of brandy in hand as he watched the flowers in the garden wilt under the storm's weight.
The fire inside him still burned. His heart clenched with every beat, as if bound by an invisible thread to his mate.
Seraphina was still enduring her rut.
And so was he.
He had fought the urge to storm into her chamber. He had to be patient. Just a little longer.
Lucian lifted the glass to his lips, the fiery taste dulling his hunger for a moment.
But then, his fingers tightened around the glass until his knuckles went white.
Through the veil of rain, a familiar figure darted toward the estate.
Jeremiah.
What the hell was he doing here?
