Every tap of Lethia's heels felt like a rhythm syncing with the quickening beat of his heart.
Goddess—he might actually believe in one for the first time.
He parted his lips slightly, but nothing came out. His eyes stayed glued to her.
This was the first time Zeran had ever laid eyes on a woman who made him breathe shallow and nearly lose his composure.
The sheer force of her presence made him want to smile—and he nearly did, but held it back. The sight of Lethia's silhouette, the gentle swell of her baby bump visible beneath her dress, stirred something visceral in him.
He felt like he should be worshipping her. The woman who was carrying his child.
Every step she took down the staircase towards him moved with such grace, it left him breathless.
"You look so… bright," Zeran said, clipped. 'Bright? What kind of bullshit is that?'
