I sought refuge in the massive palace library, losing myself among ancient leather-bound volumes and manuscripts. Here, surrounded by knowledge and history, I could pretend for a moment that I wasn't a pregnant demi-goddess hiding from her werewolf mate in the middle of a war.
For hours, I wandered between towering shelves, trailing my fingers over spines embossed with silver and gold. Books on Silverholm's history, werewolf politics, even a few fascinating texts on my own lunar heritage that I'd normally be devouring. Tonight, though, I couldn't focus on a single word.
My mind kept replaying our fight. The hurt in Kaelen's eyes when I walked away. The stubborn set of his jaw when he refused to take me with him. Both of us too proud, too afraid, too locked in our own perspectives to find middle ground.
