Bella’s P.O.V.
Now that the dust of shock and truth had begun to settle around the revelation of who—what—I was, there were more pressing questions on my mind. Aunt Claire had cleared many things, but one mystery still gnawed at me like a splinter under my skin.
The vials.
I reached into the pouch and carefully pulled them out, placing them on the table in front of her. They clinked together lightly, sounding almost innocent. But I knew better now.
“Aunt Claire,” I said softly, “can you tell me what kind of potions these are?”
Her eyes narrowed in immediate interest. She sat upright, scooting her chair closer as she peered at the glass tubes like a jeweler examining cursed diamonds.
“These are the ones that changed your eyes?” she asked.
I nodded. “Yes.”
She picked up the first via
