(Isabella’s POV)
I look up to the clock hanging on the wall of my office, noting the time. The witching hour… I’ve been sitting here since breakfast, going through the records for my pack.
I dug through the old file cabinets in the archives as far back as when my parents ruled over Caladrius Moon and lugged the documentation to my office. I’ve lined the walls with stacks of manila folders, each about my height.
I’m going cross-eyed staring at the tiny print. There’s no telling how many times I have read the last sentence…my mind just keeps wandering off.
Walking away from Santiago was one of the hardest things I have ever done. The way he looked at me seemed to signal some sort of shift in his feelings. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear it was a look of love. But, that can’t be rig
