Everyone was already gathered in the study when Deacon returned from the garage—Angel, Elias, and Dorian seated or standing near the firelight’s soft glow. Luna sat close to Angel’s side, her body tense, ears perked, eyes fixed on the door as if daring danger to return. Star sat in the corner, tail twitching thoughtfully, while Swoop remained planted on the desk, her black fur blending into the shadows, eyes luminous.
Elias stood by one of the tall windows, glancing out toward the woods. Dorian leaned casually against the bookshelf, though his posture was deceptive—he was ready to move in an instant. The air in the room was heavy with anticipation.
Deacon stepped in, his arms crossed, deep in thought.
Now, in the study, everyone turned when he entered, his expression unreadable. Angel
