Chapter Fifty–Three:
The dawn of the following day brought no warmth to the sanctuary of Luna's home. Instead, it brought a heavy, cloying tension that settled into the corners of every room like thick, grey dust. The atmosphere was a pressurized chamber of unspoken fears and sharpened instincts. Magnus and his warriors sat in the living room, their bodies stiff, their ears twitching at every creak of the floorboards. The silence was absolute—until a new sensation breached the gloom.
It was a scent. It was rich, savory, and undeniably human. It carried the aroma of seasoned meat and slow-simmered broth, a smell so out of place in a house occupied by monsters that it felt like a hallucination.
Intrigued and driven by the primal gnaw of hunger, Luna, Magnus, and the other warriors followed the olfactory trail toward the kitchen. They stopped at the threshold, their eyes widening in collective shock.
