Lena stood near the far wall, half-shadowed beneath the soft golden light of a chandelier. Her fingers curled around the stem of a half-full glass. The drinks were nothing but a distraction—
The night air had cooled her skin, but not the fire simmering inside. Seeing Marcus again—feeling him again—
She was so lost in thought that she didn’t hear them approach.
“Elena?” came a warm, familiar voice.
She blinked and looked up. Magnus.
And beside him, Felicity—her sharp eyes already scanning Lena’s face.
“Are you alright?” Magnus asked, concern etched into the lines of his brow.
“You look pale,” Felicity added, her voice softer than usual, as if trying not to spook her. “Let me just put back these beautiful black strands that had escaped from your bun.”
Felicity moved to Lena, quickly
