The sun was dipping below the horizon when Damien finally returned to the estate. The long stretch of driveway, usually neat and welcoming, seemed heavier tonight, almost mirroring the burden he carried on his shoulders. Dust still clung to his boots, the faint scent of smoke and steel lingered on his clothes. His mind was replaying every moment of the failed lead they had chased — another hollow lead, another night without Sera.
By the time he entered the main hall, he didn’t expect anyone to be waiting. The estate had its own silent rules: when Damien came back from business, no one asked questions until he was ready. But as soon as he set foot inside, he found Amara sitting on the edge of the couch in the living room. She stood quickly, her dark eyes scanning his face as though trying
