Juliette’s POV
The glowing object pulsed in his hand like it had a heartbeat of its own, casting an eerie light across the warehouse. My pulse hammered in my ears as I instinctively took a step back. The shadows around us seemed to warp and writhe in response, flickering across the crates and rusted beams.
Bryan’s eyes, dark and sharp, never left the figure. His hands were tense at his sides, knuckles white, muscles coiled like spring-loaded traps. Dorian moved slightly ahead, positioning himself between the black-eyed man and me, his presence a silent but powerful warning.
The black-eyed man tilted the glowing object toward me, the light catching my eyes, making it hard to see his expression fully. “You recognize it, don’t you?” he said, voice low, deliberate. “This belongs to you, Ome
