Luke sat alone on the edge of the outdoor balcony that overlooked the distant treeline, a half-empty glass of bourbon cradled between his fingers. Below, the gardens shimmered in moonlight, perfect, serene, untouched by the chaos unraveling inside him.
He couldn’t stop seeing her face. Lila’s startled eyes when he’d kissed her, the way her breath caught before she melted against him. For one reckless heartbeat, the world had vanished, no missions, no blood, no family expectations. Just her.
Lila had been avoiding him for years, and if it wasn't for Damien, asking Lila to train Amara, he wouldn't have saw her again.
Luke dragged a hand through his dark hair and cursed under his breath. He had sworn to himself he wouldn’t do this again, wouldn’t stir the embers they had buried years ago.
