The drive back to the estate was a blur of speed and silence.
Adrien drove with a cold, terrifying precision, his knuckles white on the leather steering wheel. Silas sat in the back, muttering in a language that sounded like stones grinding together, old warding spells, I assumed.
I sat in the passenger seat, staring at my hands.
They looked normal. Pale skin, short nails, a small ink stain on my thumb from a pen at the museum. But beneath the skin, I felt... sullied.
Every time I blinked, I saw the figure on the basement wall. I saw her. The Shadow.
She hadn't just looked like me. She had felt like me. She was made of my pride, my exhaustion, and the secret, buried part of me that had enjoyed watching the Council tremble.
"She's following us," I whispered.
Adrien’s eyes flicked to
