Elowen Hale and Duke Cassian Valebourne Book PDF Free

“If there is someone you care for… say it.” The King’s voice carried across the great hall from the raised dais-steady, composed, yet touched with an uncommon gentleness. Every word was deliberate, leaving no room for doubt. “I want to hear it from you.” Elowen Hale stood perfectly still. In that single moment, clarity struck…

Until one day-she overheard him. Alaric was speaking with a close companion. About her. Only then did she understand. Everything she had suffered-he had known. He simply hadn’t cared. Or worse-he had allowed it. His voice was cold. Sharp with contempt. “She forced me to marry her,” he said. “Now she’s getting what she deserves.”…

The King turned. “Hmm?” Elowen’s eyes were faintly red. But her voice was steady. This time-she didn’t even look at Alaric. She stepped forward and lowered herself into a deep, formal bow. “I did grow up alongside His Highness,” she said clearly. “But I have always regarded him with respect.” She paused. Then continued, each…

But everyone knew. The Crown Prince despised her. No one wanted to risk offending him. She stood there as the sun dipped lower, the world slowly emptying around her-until despair began to close in. And then-a voice. Weak, but steady. “There’s a carriage ready. Come.” She turned. Stunned. Cassian sat in a wheelchair not far…

Alaric’s brow tightened. Maerwyn leaned closer, her eyes glinting with amusement. “Alaric, I’d bet anything-she’ll regret this in less than a week.” A faint, cold smile touched his lips. “That has nothing to do with me.” … After the banquet, Elowen returned to Hale Manor. She walked through the quiet garden, past familiar paths overgrown…

Alaric’s gaze shifted. Hilda stepped forward with a composed smile. “Her Majesty did indeed summon Lady Elowen.” She had served the Queen for years-her word was beyond question. So Elowen hadn’t come here for him at all. A faint crease formed between Alaric’s brows, irritation rising, unwelcome and sharp. “I will soon be marrying Duke…

Back then, Alaric had been beside himself, gripping her hand, sweat beading down his temples. “I’ll take care of you forever,” he had vowed. When had that changed? When had warmth turned into distance… and distance into disdain? She couldn’t remember. In her previous life, she had chased that answer relentlessly-crying through endless nights, wearing…

So Leonhart stepped in. As he took her hand and led her forward, laughter and well-wishes rose all around them. Amid the noise, he leaned closer, lowering his voice. “Elowen… Alaric won’t be coming today.” She paused, just for a fraction of a second. Of all things to bring up-today? “He’s… unwell,” Leonhart continued. “Ever…

Elowen couldn’t imagine what kind of woman could inspire that level of devotion from the Duke of Duskmoor. What kind of breathtaking beauty she must be. After washing and freshening up, Elowen changed into a pale, moon-white nightgown. Bran had already brought over a brand-new pillow and a brocade quilt, laying them neatly beside Cassian….

And now, it was Elowen who had married into the manor instead. Mira frowned, speaking up for Elowen. “The Duchess has just woken up. Why rush her over so urgently?” The matron snorted. “Of course. The Duchess comes from a military household, noble and honored, personally chosen by His Majesty. No wonder she looks down…