Chapter Fifty Eight: Seduction

There would be no seduction. Instead, from this night forward, she’d be

sleeping alone in a separate tent.

Once, Lyra would have been relieved.

But now...

Numbly, she rose from their bed. Grabbing her backpack, she started to

gather her clothes. Then she stopped, looking around the tent. Viktor

always dumped everything on the floor, in that careless masculine way,

knowing it was someone else’s job to follow after him and tidy up. Looking

across the luxurious carpets piled thickly across the sand, Lyra’s eyes could

see the entirety of her husband’s day: the empty water bucket of solid silver.

The hand-crafted sandalwood soap. His crumpled pajama pants. And in a

corner, his black leather briefcase, so stuffed with papers that it could no

longer be closed, none of which he’d glanced at even once since the day

they’d arrived here.

In the distance, she heard a sound like rolling thunder.

Tears rose to her eyes, and she wiped them away fiercely. She didn’t want

to leave him. This was the pl