LUCIAN'S P.O.V.
The darkness lingered, coiling around me like a snake waiting to strike. Raivo had settled into my mind with a smug confidence that was both infuriating and disconcerting. He was there, at the edge, watching, calculating. Ares, had grown silent, retreating into the furthest corners of my consciousness.
"Serena," I barked, my voice cutting through the tension like a blade. "What's next?"
She hesitated, her usually composed demeanor faltering. Her witches exchanged glances, their wariness transparent. "We prepare for Adrian," she finally said, her tone careful.
