Aria’s POV
The sun came up without a glow. Just cold and grey, illuminating the mess we had made of the courtyard.
The scent of copper and ozone still clung to the air, even as the cleaning crews, silent, professional men in suits scrubbed the marble where a High Council member and a madman had bled out only hours before.
I stood on the grand portico, my arms wrapped tightly around myself. I was still dressed for a fight that never happened, the fabric stiff and smelling of smoke.
A sleek, midnight-black Rolls-Royce sat idling at the base of the steps, its engine growled faintly, vibrating in the soles of my boots.
The Grand Luna stood by the open door, her spine as straight as a steel rod. She didn't look like a woman who had just watched a murder; she looked like a CEO who had
