Chapter FiftyI stood in front of the blue-and-yellow townhouse, unsure if I should knock or turn and return home. Zantry stood a few feet away, leaning on a light pole, waiting for me to decide what I wanted, not pressuring either way.
I glanced at him, his hair tied back in a stubby tail, his handsome face bearing a hint of stubble, hands tucked in the pockets of his black jeans. There was a bond between us, formed almost two weeks ago in the stone circle, a connection that grew with every passing day. I was so aware of his presence, it was as if he was part of me–in a comforting, soothing way.
Zantry tilted his head. The front door opened and Matilda appeared in the doorway, dressed in black loose fitted trousers and a brown button-down shirt, her salt-and-pepper hair pulled back in a
