Morgana's POV
The door creaks open.
Lucian steps inside without turning on the light, without closing it all the way. His footsteps are heavy, measured, the echo of his exhaustion seeping into every movement. He doesn’t need to see me to know I’m here. His instincts warn him, alert him. But he doesn’t react. Not yet.
I watch him from my corner in the shadows. I don’t make a sound, don’t announce my presence. I don’t need to. His posture says it all—his shoulders rigid, his jaw clenched, his breathing controlled with an almost visible effort. He’s tired. Frustrated. The meeting with the Alphas drained him more than he expected.
Perfect.
I move calmly, allowing the soft rustle of my dress against my skin to break the silence. Not enough to be threatening. Just enough to remind him that
