Ren hadn't realized the couple was gone until the sound of distant footsteps echoed behind him. He turned his head slightly, just enough to see a maid passing through the corridor—a servant assigned to this wing.
Only then did he notice how tense his body was. His breath came shallow, his muscles stiff as if frozen in place.
At least this time, the fear hadn't triggered his pheromones or a heat. But his legs gave out despite himself, and he fell to his knees on the cold marble floor.
A shaky sigh escaped him, the sound faint but filled with relief. His breath trembled until he forced himself to steady it. It was quick—like the snap of a finger—as if he had done it countless times before.
With both hands, he pushed himself up from the floor and brushed his palms together, wiping off imaginary dust. The palace was always spotless, yet somehow, dirt found its way everywhere.
