The grove’s silver mist clung to the trunks like breath on glass. Jackson’s gaze stayed locked on Cassian, the vampire seated on a moss-covered log, wrists and ankles bound by glowing gray chains that hummed with the white witches containment runes. Cassian’s crimson eyes reflected the fireflies drifting above, calm and unreadable. Blaze paced inside Jackson’s chest, hackles raised, a low snarl vibrating through the bond. He smells wrong, the wolf growled. Not like the others.
Lilith stood between them, arms folded, ruby eyes flicking from Jackson to Cassian and back. The air tasted of pine and tension. She felt the conflict like a thorn under her skin—Cassian was the first vampire she’d met who didn’t reek of rot and death. He’d spoken of the Luminari, a hidden clan that fed on willing d
