AS SERIS walked toward the gates, the hum of students’ chatter echoed around her, but her senses were alert, sharpened by the quiet instinct that something wasn’t right. It was already five in the afternoon, and Cassara and Isla went on a date with their mates, so she was left alone.
Then a shadow stepped into her path.
One of Seris’ eyebrows raised when she saw Dahlia, but her once-proud smirk was absent. Instead, her eyes gleamed with an unnatural sheen, glassy and cold, as though a storm brewed behind them.
“Going somewhere, Luna?” Dahlia’s voice laced with mockery, but beneath it, Seris caught the strange tremor—like a puppet’s strings being pulled.
Seris stopped, her spine straightening. Immediately, the bond with Cassian thrummed faintly in her chest, sensing her unease. Her
