SERAPHINA’S POV
Across the courtyard, the man froze.
I saw him hesitate, and then, with a sharp movement, he turned.
The moment his eyes met mine, recognition flared.
“Sera?” Maxwell gasped, disbelief threading through his voice as he stepped fully into the light. “What are you—”
His gaze flicked to Kieran. Then back to me.
Then, just as quickly, his jaw set and his eyes hardened.
“Not here,” he said under his breath.
I didn’t argue.
The courtyard suddenly felt smaller. Tighter. Like every shadow had grown ears.
Kieran’s hand slipped into mine, and together we moved toward Maxwell’s door instead of ours.
He stepped back to let us in, closing it behind us with a quiet click that sounded as loud as a gunshot.
The room was simple and sparse. A bed, a narrow table, a chair positioned beneath a small window.
“What are you doing here?” Maxwell asked, keeping his voice low.
I crossed my arms, studying him carefully. “We could ask you the same thing.”
