The air inside the house was heavy, charged with an undercurrent of tension that seemed to ripple from the man standing in the center of the room.
Callum's presence was magnetic, almost overwhelming, like a storm contained within a deceptively calm exterior. His violet eyes, piercing yet inscrutable, roved over the trio before him with a quiet intensity.
His golden hair caught the dim light, a faint halo framing sharp, aristocratic features that wouldn't have looked out of place in a Renaissance painting. Clad in a tailored black coat that seemed to absorb the shadows around him, he exuded an effortless charm that was both disarming and unnerving.
Behind him, Maya leaned against the doorframe with her usual easy confidence, a wry smile playing on her lips. Beside her, Lucas stood with arms crossed, his posture relaxed but his eyes watchful, ready to intervene if things went south.
