Tristan's POV
I knew we should have told Aitana about our plan to use two cars to distract whoever was tracking her. But Sebastian had insisted—"The less she knows, the less she can worry about."
"Sebastian was right, if Aitana knew our plan, she wouldn't have let us proceed," Remiel reminded me.
We were now waiting at the airport. Aitana went into the bathroom to change her clothes and put on makeup to hide those beautiful golden freckles.
The passport I had gotten for her was under a fake name—Elena Vasquez—and she needed to look the part.
I paced near the terminal gate, my phone pressed to my ear as Sebastian’s voice crackled through the line. He had already left the city, meaning we could no longer use the mind-link. The distance pains hadn't kicked, but I think we have to thank
