Aurora POV
I walked away from the demon general, still feeling his guilt clinging to the air behind me. These demons act like they have no conscience, but even monsters bleed somewhere inside.
I wrapped my arms around myself as I returned through the silent corridors, the wig slightly heavy on my head. My thoughts refused to settle. The human—no, the witch—her trembling hands, her bleeding lip, the terror in her eyes.
And the white marks on my hand…
No. No, no, no. That part I would deal with later. Maybe never.
I finally reached my chamber, pushed the door open and collapsed into the chair near the vanity. My reflection stared back at me—white wig, tired eyes, shaking hands.
"Aurora," I whispered to myself, "what are you doing here?"
Before I could even breathe, the door opened.
Darius walked in.
Tall, calm, and dangerously unreadable. His eyes scanned my body from head to toe as if searching for something out of place. Maybe he saw too much. Maybe he always did.
