With the last shard safely picked up, Evelyn sighed in relief, her gaze wandering back to her healed hand. Just as she was about to get lost in the enormity of her situation, a sudden hush fell over the room. A palpable tension weaved through the air, followed by the creaking of the grand doors. The heavy wood groaned as they slowly swung open, giving way to the figure that had been the subject of their apprehension.
Their master, Tristan, stood at the threshold. Dressed in a suit of midnight black that accentuated his lean, muscular frame, he was the epitome of suave charm and icy intimidation. His hair, slicked back meticulously, framed his strikingly handsome face, drawing attention to his smoldering, deep-set eyes. Every inch of him radiated an aura of regal power and undisputed authority.
Flanking him on either side were twin beauties, Lily and Lyla. With their raven black hair cascading over their shoulders and contrasting with their porcelain skin, they looked ethereal.
