Artemis POV
The mansion was too quiet.
That kind of heavy quiet that settles after something breaks—louder than shouting, sharper than a slammed door. I stood in the kitchen at 1:12 a.m., shirt half-unbuttoned, coffee gone cold in my hand.
Luna was upstairs.
Lana was in the guest room.
And I was a man caught between two versions of a life I no longer wanted to live.
I saw my reflection in the black glass of the oven—hollow eyes, tired jaw, a man who’d spent too long being passive. I let too much happen. Let too much rot in silence.
That ended tonight.
I set the mug down, walked upstairs, and knocked once on the bedroom door. I didn’t wait for permission.
Luna POV
I was expecting him.
After everything that had been said, everything that hadn't, I knew he’d come eventually. Artemi
