Aeon’s breath hitched as his fingers betrayed him, moving of their own accord. First, he removed his vest. He just stared at it being dumped on the floor. Then, his hand slipped into his breast pocket, trembling as it retrieved the ring encased in a small plastic packet. His mind screamed in protest, but his body refused to obey.
The hound, which had been lying motionless, stirred. Its movements were slow and deliberate, as though guided by an unseen force. With its eyes still closed, it rose to its feet and padded silently toward Domestica.
Aeon’s heart pounded in his chest, the surreal scene unfolding before him like a waking nightmare.
Her gloved hand reached out, her expression calm and calculating. She plucked the ring from the packet with a precision that sent a chill down his sp
