Selene leaned against the cool stone wall, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. She'd been listening to the Lords' exchange from just outside the room, her sharp hearing catching every word, every insidious undertone. Her expression was neutral, but her mind churned with unease.
Arabella's scent lingered faintly in the air, a tantalizing trail that even she could feel. The humans Aamon had brought in as a distraction might have bought them some time, but it wouldn't last. The Lords weren't fools, and they wouldn't let this go.
"This is a disaster," Selene muttered under her breath.
She clenched her fists, her sharp nails biting into her palms. The girl—Arabella—was trouble, whether she meant to be or not. And yet, Damian had insisted on protecting her, dragging all of them into his
