Seraphina's Point Of View
Exactly two weeks had passed since that absolutely insane night with Azriel in my apartment. Fourteen days. And honestly? Everything had been going smoothly. Way too smoothly. In fact, things were progressing so incredibly, flawlessly well that I was starting to get deeply, aggressively suspicious about the whole damn situation.
Every single morning I walked through those heavy glass revolving doors downstairs, I felt like I was walking a tightrope suspended over a canyon. My shoulders were permanently hitched up to my ears, muscles knotted with tension, and I was quite literally on my tiptoes, just waiting for the other shoe to drop or for the ceiling to collapse right onto my head.
