TRISTAN
Tyler was many things I never expected him to be.
Cursed. A man who claimed love but wore tools meant to drain it.
And now my sister, my own blood had warned me to keep Yelena away from him.
Marie never spoke without reason. She saw patterns before anyone else did. She smelled danger before it arrived. If she told me to be careful, then danger was already standing at the door.
All I needed now was Yelena’s permission.
One test. One truth.
And every doubt would either die… or turn into war.
The hospital smelled of antiseptic and cold steel. Clean, but uneasy. My shoe echoed against the tiled floor as I walked in, my heartbeat louder than my steps. She had called me herself.
Yelena never called unless it mattered.
When I stopped in front of her office door, I knocked once.
