The decision had been made. They weren’t leaving. They weren’t running.
But knowing the fight was coming didn’t make the waiting any easier.
The days that followed were tense, filled with an unspoken weight that settled over the manor like a thick fog. Celine had always kept the house well-protected—wards carved into the foundation itself, spells woven into the very walls—but even those could only do so much. Draven and Vivienne had been able to get too close before. That meant they could do it again.
Makayla hated the quiet that followed a battle. The lull before the storm. She hated standing still, feeling the pressure of something just beyond the horizon and not being able to reach it. She wanted the fight now. She wanted to rip something apart.
But instead, she was stuck in this wa
