The heavy oak doors of the Secret conference den felt like they were holding back a thunderstorm. Inside, Mia, Blake, and Riley were frozen, their eyes locked on the entrance. Riley’s scent was a jagged spike of anxiety—she had fought so hard to bury me in the Northern snow, yet here we were in the South, and a new shadow was looming.
The door creaked open. The silhouette that stepped through was framed by the harsh southern sun, casting a long, regal shadow across the stone floor.
"Ava?" Mia’s voice was a low growl, her fists bunching the fabric of her silks. "How did you get back in here?"
Blake and Riley surged to their feet, their faces pale. I didn't say a word. I simply walked to the table and sat down, the gold of my gown shimmering like dragon scales.
"After reviewing the linea
