CIARA
The private dining room was too quiet. The estate was fully lit and functioning perfectly, the crystal chandeliers overhead casting a bright, warm glow over the long mahogany table, but the air inside my lungs felt like pure ice.
Hayes sat at the head of the table. He had changed into a fresh black uniform shirt that made his shoulders look impossibly wide, his jaw set in a rigid line, his golden eyes fixed directly on the plate in front of him. I sat at his right hand, my fingers tightly interlaced in my lap beneath the heavy table runner. I had forced myself to get out of the blankets and put on a simple dark dress to look like the Luna I was supposed to be, but my skin still felt completely frozen.
And sitting directly across from us, looking completely at home in the warmth of
