a Bon

nferno years ago, saving his family, the Paynes. They had perished, leaving me an orphan, utterly alone in the world. After their death, my gree

e in, brought me into the Payne household, a world of unimaginable wealth and privilege. To ensure my security, to

asm between us. I had spent years trying to bridge that gap, desperately clinging to him. I had cried, I had thrown tantrums, I had even threatened to leave, all to get his attention, to make him see me. I had chased away every woman

ne. The fight had drained out of me, replaced by a profound, chilling empt

ected a fight, tears, a desperate plea. He was used to my dramatics

g my face. "You're not going to fight me on this?" he asked, his voice softer, almost a challenge. "No tears? No

buried somewhere in the froze

whisper, yet steady. A faint, sad smile touched my lips. "I understand. I won't be the bride at that wedd

nally peeled back the layers of makeshift bandages and frozen fabric. "Se

the deep snow, the constant fear of the wild beasts whose howls had been my lullaby. I couldn't stop, couldn't rest. I had to keep moving, or they would find me. And then I fell. The branch. The agoniz

s what eventually led them to me. The wound was a gaping maw,

y leg. A flicker of something, fear? Concern? It crossed his face before h

. We won't know the full extent until we get her to

urprisingly gentle. He reached out, his fingers brushi

ace. "Oh, my arm," she murmured, clutching her b

ion snapped back to Candace, his face etched with immediate concern.

with a brave, suffering tone, though no tears actually

He gently massaged her shoulder, his touch light and tender. He didn't spare

shing over me. The stretcher I was on jostled, nearly sending me tumbling. My hand scraped against the metal, a fresh sting, a thin line of blood b