The moon hung low over the dense woods surrounding the isolated manor, casting a silvery glow that danced across its stone facade. Mikhail leaned against the iron railings of the balcony, the cold metal an anchor against the whirlwind of thoughts in his mind. Below, the sprawling gardens lay shrouded in shadows, their eerie stillness a reflection of his own restlessness.
Behind him, Makayla’s soft humming broke the silence. She lounged on the plush velvet chaise in their shared sitting room, her dark curls tumbling over one shoulder. A book rested on her lap, though her crimson eyes betrayed her distraction.
“You’re brooding again,” she teased, her voice a perfect echo of his. Their identical appearances often left humans baffled, but it was their shared mannerisms and unspoken bond that
