Selena's heart pounded as she stepped away from the dark corridors of the building, each step deliberate and heavy with the weight of a secret that no one could ever understand. She can't explain herself or feel in Nayla's form—nayla's mate is a raging b***h who cares two shits about her. She was just living with borrowed skin. Determined, she had set her mind on tonight, her spirit reclaiming its original form at any cost.
By her Leila, Nayla's loyal servant whose eyes were big with silent unease. Leila's otherwise Selena's face disclosed her nervousness; her brow furrowed as she observed Selena's trembling hand that clutched the worn-out leather bag.
Though committed to serving the mistress whose body now housed Selena's soul, Leila's compassionate heart had long been aware of the pain
