The Hawthorne Manor stood apart from the city.
Not hidden.
Not isolated.
But removed—like it existed on its own terms.
The gates opened smoothly as Adrian’s car approached, revealing a long, curved driveway lined with tall, sculpted hedges and old trees that had clearly stood there long before the city grew around them.
Lyra noticed immediately.
This place had history.
Not the wild, ancient kind she was used to but something quieter.
Refined.
Intentional.
The car came to a stop in front of the manor.
Rowan stepped out first, stretching.
“Home sweet home.”
Lyra stepped out more slowly, her gaze moving over the structure.
Stone walls.
Tall windows glowing faintly from within.
Elegant.
But not cold.
There was warmth here.
Subtle—but real.
Adrian moved around the car.
“Let
