Chapter 150 – Doomed
Elyndra leaned closer to the bathroom door like she wasn't the granddaughter of an ancient elven dynasty. Like she wasn't supposed to be graceful and aloof and utterly above all this.
But she really wasn't above this.
Because the sounds slipping through the crack in the bathroom door were… graphic.
Low, rhythmic thuds. A breathless gasp. A moan that started high and dropped low and long, wet enough to curl Ely's toes inside her expensive heels.
She pressed a hand to her burning cheek. "It's so hot," she whispered.
Fiera flinched beside her, mouth full. "Not gonna lie. That last moan? That was a cinematic experience."
Mira didn't say anything right away. She just slowly turned her head and stared at Fiera with visible judgment.
"Why," she said dryly, "are you still eating macarons?"
Fiera was halfway through her third. She chewed slowly, like shame would appear if she swallowed too fast.
