Desiree’s POV
“Hecate.”
The name lingered in the air even after she said it. I stared at her, my brows slowly pulling together as I tried to place it—tried to make it make sense—but nothing came.
It was just the name.
And yet, the way she stood there…calm, composed, like she had just said something I was supposed to recognize, made irritation curl in my chest.
“I'm supposed to know who that is?” I asked, folding my arms across my chest.
Her lips curved slightly, not quite a smile, but close enough to make it feel like she something way more than I heard from Brandon, Zachary and Grayson.
“No,” she said simply. “You're not.”
And that only annoyed me more. “Then why say it like that?” I shot back. “Like it's supposed to mean something to me?”
She didn’t answer immediately.Instead,
