Juliette’s POV
The sun was barely a smear of gold on the horizon when I forced myself out of bed, though sleep had been a fleeting illusion. My body felt restless, a mix of tension and heat I couldn’t shake. The dream from the previous night lingered like a phantom, the memory of Dorian’s touch and Bryan’s gaze wrapped around me like a vice. My fingers trembled as I grabbed my phone, expecting the familiar pang of anxiety that came every time I remembered the text messages: “He is not who you think he is.”
I paced my small apartment, the wooden floor cold under my bare feet, each step echoing in the quiet space. Shadows seemed to stretch longer than they should, curling in corners, dancing across the walls. My pulse thudded erratically, stubbornly refusing to calm down. Both Dorian and B
