In the dim light of her room, Serena clutched the stolen letter, its words about the moonroot ritual and fire witches’ blood haunting her. Gary and Jack had promised to share it with Mia and devise a plan, but the mansion’s oppressive silence amplified her fear. Hart’s vulnerability—his fear of losing her—had cracked his facade, but his demand for loyalty kept him her enemy. A soft knock startled her, followed by Gary’s voice, low and urgent. “Serena, it’s us. Can we come in?”
She opened the door, her heart racing. Gary and Jack stepped inside, their faces etched with determination, the mate bond flickering with a warmth that eased her nerves. Mia slipped in behind them, her knife glinting at her belt, her grin fierce but worried. “Spill it, Serena,” Mia said, closing the door. “Gary said
