The moonlight slashed through broken shutters as Orla crept down the spiral staircase, Jakob cradled against her chest. His breath was steady—until it wasn’t. He shifted, small body trembling, and she tightened her grip, heart hammering.
Upstairs, Sasha’s footsteps echoed on the cracked marble floor. Orla froze mid-step, listening. Every lesson Mara ever taught her screamed in her blood: trust no one.
“Jakob,” Orla whispered, pressing a finger to his lips. He blinked up at her, those too-wise-for-his-years eyes full of questions she couldn’t answer. She had promised to protect him. But protection came with choices. And tonight, those choices would burn through everything.
At the top of the stairs, Sasha stood in the pale glow, the tail of her trench coat flicking like a serpent’s tongue
