Mira's POV
The hum of the car's engine was a low, steady drone, but it did nothing to quiet the turmoil in my mind. Roxy was focused on the road, her knuckles white on the steering wheel.
She'd felt it too—the chilling, primal murderous intent that had rolled off that silver-haired man like a fog. It was a feeling I knew all too well, one that sent me spiraling back to a past I'd fought to escape.
That monster.
The man in the garage had the more aura of cold, obsessive control. More than him. The one who had twisted my life into a nightmare, the psychopath I'd barely survived. And now, Eleanor might be connected to someone just like him.
It had to be. Her natural silver-white hair wasn't a coincidence. Only a handful of ancient, powerful lineages carried that trait, and they were all deeply entwined with the Shadow Cult. Eleanor's search for her family was leading her straight into the heart of the very darkness I'd run from.
