Demitri’s POV
The fire crackled softly in the grand hearth, casting long shadows across the room. It was quiet—too quiet. The kind of silence that turned introspection into a weapon, cutting deeper with every passing second. I sat in one of the leather armchairs near the flames, a glass of bourbon dangling from my fingers. The amber liquid swirled as I leaned back, staring into the dancing flames as though they held some answer I couldn’t find on my own.
Aria.
It always came back to her.
At first, she was nothing more than a means to an end. A vessel for power. The key to everything I had spent centuries seeking. But somewhere along the way, everything shifted. She shifted. I saw her not just as the wolf-witch hybrid who could tip the scales of supernatural balance but as something els
