Three weeks into my recovery period, the penthouse had settled into a comfortable rhythm of family life and gradual healing. The physical damage from using Grey prematurely was finally beginning to fade, and I could feel my strength starting to flow more naturally again. I was reviewing morning reports in the study when I heard the distinctive sound of teleportation magic activating in the main living area.
The magical signature was unmistakably elegant—precise, controlled, and carrying the particular resonance that belonged to only one person I knew. I set aside my papers and made my way to the living room, where I found Seraphina standing near the tall windows, her silver hair catching the morning light like spun moonbeams while her ice blue eyes surveyed the penthouse with cool appreciation.
