Chapter 143. Strength

Tristan's POV

The morning light broke through the window, casting golden stripes across the floor. The house was quiet, but the kind of quiet that draped itself over everything like a heavy curtain. I stood in the doorway of the bedroom, watching her.

Elona sat at the edge of the dresser, her back straight, her eyes fixed on the mirror in front of her. She was applying makeup with the kind of precision that came only from muscle memory. The brush moved softly over her cheekbones, hiding the fatigue beneath the foundation, and the concealer covering what I knew were subtle remnants of strain from yesterday.

She was beautiful, effortlessly so beautiful, but there was something about the way she pressed her lips together between applications, something about the way her shoulders tensed every time her gaze flicked to her reflection. She was wearing