(Chapter 22: Lorenzo's POV)
I led Mira through the corridors, away from the ballroom. She walked fast, her breathing sharp, but she hadn't said a word.
"Where are we going?" she finally asked.
"Somewhere safe."
She scoffed. "Safe doesn't exist for me."
I stopped, turning to her. "Then I'll make it exist."
She stared at me, searching for something—doubt, hesitation. She wouldn't find any.
Footsteps echoed behind us. Fast. Closing in.
Mira tensed. "They won't let me leave, will they?"
"No." I grabbed her hand leading her towards my car. "But they'll have to stop me first."
Without waiting for a response, I pulled her down another hallway. We had to move,Fast.
(Callidus' POV)
I watched them disappear down the corridor, Mira's hand locked in Lorenzo's grip.
Fascinating.
The vampire was protective, possessive even. A complication I hadn't accounted for. But complications could be… entertaining.
A slow smile curved my lips as I turned to Lillian. "You didn't tell me he'd be here."
She didn't flinch. Impressive. "You didn't ask."
I chuckled. "Clever."
The gala had gone off course, but I wasn't concerned. Mira couldn't run forever.
And neither could Lorenzo.
"She trusts him," Lillian murmured, watching the doorway where they had vanished.
"For now." I adjusted my cufflinks. "But trust is such a fragile thing, don't you think?"
Lillian's lips pressed into a thin line. She knew what I meant.
Mira would come to me.
All I had to do was wait.
(Mira, POV)
The city blurred past us as Lorenzo drove in silence, his grip tight on the wheel. I stared out the window, my mind racing.
Lillian and Callidus.
They were working together.
Which meant my home, my life—everything I had thought was mine—was compromised.
"I can't go back," I murmured.
Lorenzo's gaze flickered toward me. "I know."
A beat of silence stretched between us before I asked, "Where are we going?"
"To someone who can help."
I frowned. "Who?"
"You'll see
hated cryptic answers, but I didn't have the energy to argue.
We drove for hours, leaving the city behind. The roads turned narrow, winding through thick forests. When we finally stopped, we were in front of a small, ivy-covered cottage, hidden beneath towering oak trees. A single light flickered behind the curtains.
An old woman stood in the doorway, waiting. Her silver hair was braided over one shoulder, her eyes sharp despite the wrinkles framing them. She looked at me, then at Lorenzo, and nodded as if she had expected us.
"Come in," she said, stepping aside.
I hesitated. There was something about her—something knowing.
That was enough for now.
Inside, the cottage smelled of herbs and aged wood. A fire crackled in the hearth, casting shadows along the walls. The woman gestured to a chair.
"You look just like her," she murmured.
I stiffened. "Like who?"
She met my eyes. "Your mother."
My breath caught.
Lorenzo watched me closely, but he said nothing.
The woman sat across from me, her gaze unyielding. "You don't remember me, but I knew this day would come. I knew you would return."
I swallowed hard. "What do you mean?"
She smiled, sadness flickering in her expression. "Because this isn't the first time I've seen you in that body."
A shiver ran down my spine.
She knew.
She knew exactly what i was.