The night air was heavy when Selene pushed open the gate to her father’s estate. Her hands trembled, not from fear but from the storm in her chest. Every step felt like walking into the den of wolves. She paused on the stone path, inhaling the faint scent of smoke from the kitchen fires. Maids whispered in the dark corners, quick to hide when her shadow passed.It was late, yet voices drifted from the dining hall. They were sharp, worried, and frantic. Selene slowed her steps, ...