Chapter 77 Redo

• Elara
• The music was soft and sweet, drifting lazily over the twinkling lights strung across the open-air pavilion. Everything felt golden—the warm glow of lanterns, the hum of conversation over glasses of bubbly champagne, the faint crackle of the bonfire flickering in the distance.
• But none of it compared to the way Alaric’s hand felt against the small of my back, guiding me across the dance floor with a quiet kind of certainty that made my heart ache in the best way.