The penthouse was silent, bathed in the soft, bruised light of a New York dawn. I stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows, watching the city wake up. Below, millions of people were starting their mundane lives, oblivious to the fact that a war for the soul of a supernatural empire had just been fought in the hills. My neck still burned—a constant, rhythmic thrum that matched the heartbeat of the man sleeping in the next room.
I looked at my reflection in the glass. I looked the same, yet entirely different. The navy blazer I’d worn to the sanctuary was ruined, the sleeves singed from the silver lightning I’d channeled. But it was my eyes that caught me off guard. They didn't just look tired; they looked electrified, reflecting a violet depth I didn't recognize.
"You're brooding, Elena. It’
