Cecilia's pov
I leaned close to the thin wall.
A warm, smoky scent seeped through the cracks—rosewood and incense—mixed with something metallic, faint but sharp, like rusted iron or old blood.
It settled in my chest like static.
The air was thick with tangible, festering emotions.
On the other side, I saw Mrs. White--Luna of the Shadow Pack.
She was kneeling on a mat, her spine too straight to be relaxed, but her whole body trembling just enough to betray her fear.
One of her heels had snapped, the other still clinging to her foot like it refused to give up.
Her expensive cream-colored coat was wrinkled and half-off her shoulder, exposing a silk blouse sweat-stained along the collar.
Her hair, always sleek in public, was loose in places. A few strands stuck to her temple.
She loo
