The mansion had never looked like this. Not even during the naming ceremony. That had been grand. This—Was deliberate. Lanterns hung like suspended stars through the trees. Black silk ribbons traced the stone pathways. Deep florals—black roses woven with ivory and muted silver—curved around archways and railings in structured elegance. Not spectacle. Precision. The garden glowed in controlled gold. Intentional. Chosen. And at the center of it—Andrew stood inside the dressing suite, staring at his reflection. Honey sharpened faintly.
"This is your fault."
He muttered. Behind him, Luna laughed.
"You agreed."
"I did not agree to this part."
Kai leaned against the wall, arms crossed, looking far too entertained.
"You said."
Kai reminded calmly.
"And I quote, 'It's ours.'"
