The weekend was over.
The scent of Luna perfume had faded from the hallways. The giggles and whispers that once filled every corner of Blackmoon were gone—swept away with the retreating tide of the Lunarias and the chaos they left in their wake.
What remained behind was colder.
Quieter.
And far more uncomfortable.
Rayne sat at the edge of her bed, mechanically pulling on her boots. Across the room, Lucian moved like a shadow—quick, efficient, silent. Not a glance spared in her direction.
Not a word spoken since they woke.
She could feel him in the space the same way she might feel a storm pressing in behind her back. Heavy. Charged. Inevitable.
Her eyes flicked up for just a second. He was shrugging into his academy-issued tunic, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, exposing the lean l
