POV - Serena
Blackthorn Row hummed the moment I returned.
As I entered my house it recognised me as it always had.
Candles flared along the walls without being asked, their flames tinted faintly green as my magic brushed past them. The wards sighed and shifted, layers of protection tightening like muscle beneath skin. Floorboards creaked in greeting. Somewhere deep in the bones of the townhouse, something ancient and watchful settled closer.
I moved straight for the armory.
Steel waited where I had left it. Blades laid out with ritual precision across the long oak table, each etched with runes I had carved myself over the years. Some were subtle, woven into the grain. Others burned faintly, hungry and awake. I stripped off my coat and rolled my sleeves, already reaching for the chalk
