The air inside the guest wing was no longer just air; it was a static-charged pressure cooker. Elena slammed the heavy oak door shut, her heart hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird. Outside, the garden was still reeling from her confrontation with Cassian, the scent of jasmine still clinging to her cloak like a shroud. But inside, a different kind of storm was brewing, one that threatened to dismantle every lie she had carefully constructed over the last five years.
"Leo, lock the windows! Draw the heavy velvet curtains! Now!" Elena’s voice was a frantic whip-c***k.
In the center of the room, sprawled across the ornate rug, was Luna. The girl was usually the steady one, the calm mirror to Leo’s intensity, but now she was unrecognizable. Her small, delicate frame was slick with
