Chapter 14
Leo’s POV
By the time I left my room, my head was still a war zone.
The hallways of the upper chamber were quiet; the hush before a storm. I could already sense the others—three distinct scents woven into the stone corridors: Tristan’s clean cedar calm, Rhael’s warm spice, and Mark’s green pine threaded with smugness. They were waiting.
When I entered the breakfast chamber, all three heads turned toward me.
The long table was untouched, food cooling, untouched as though even hunger had been driven out by last night’s events.
Mark, of course, spoke first.
“You’re late,” he drawled, lounging back in his chair. His green eyes glinted like a cat who’d caught a bird. “Dreaming of our little Luna?”
I stopped opposite him, refusing to sit. “What you did last night—”
“What she
