Chapter 35
A breath stirred the shadows, warm and tender, a whisper of life against the stillness. The faintest touch followed, a brush of fingers that barely grazed Elara’s skin. Her hair shifted, swept back with a touch so delicate it almost didn’t feel real.
The darkness pressed close, but it wasn’t threatening.
It held her, soft and weightless, a quiet presence that curled through her senses.
It filled the space with warmth, seeping into the cracks of her broken body.
The quiet no longer seemed boundless. It did not seek to crush her under its weight. Instead, it held her.
And though she couldn't place it, couldn’t fully grasp what it meant, it felt like a vow—like something was drawing near, something beyond the pain—something that would come, as if solely for her.