Agatha
The candlelight trembled when Callen opened the door and our eyes met.
Everything went quiet and it was as if nature, too, feared the quiet between us.
Callen’s gaze lingered on the grimoire a heartbeat too long, and I could almost hear the thoughts racing behind those steady eyes.
He wasn’t a fool.
Of all the men in this cursed palace, he was the one I could never quite read. He carried that soldier’s composure, that Gamma’s restraint, as if his mind were locked behind steel walls. I hated that about him.
My fingers itched around the knife hidden behind my skirts. A single step, one clean slice across the throat, and he would never tell anyone what he had seen.
But then he spoke, and his tone… wasn’t what I expected.
“Miss Agatha,” he said, and smiled, that infuriating, cal
