EMMA
I didn’t stop shaking after the glass shattered.
Not when the members of Lune Noire moved with terrifying precision. Not when Damien was escorted out with a smile still on his face. Not even when the hall was cleared and the broken windows boarded up like it was just another inconvenience.
What stayed with me was the pressure.
The way the air had moved.
The way Gabriel hadn’t touched anything—and yet everything had broken.
By evening, the estate felt different. Not welcoming. Not warm. Tight. Like a living thing holding its breath.
Gabriel had ordered Damien to leave the property immediately. I’d heard it—his voice low, iron-clad, echoing through the courtyard as the sun dipped behind the trees.
“You are no longer welcome here,” Gabriel said. “Leave. Now.”
Damien only laughed
