Artemisia

I’m still sobbing as Cayden walks into my room.

My mother has her arms wrapped around me, her head resting on my shoulder while Ramona is sitting on the other side, holding my hand.

He walks in silently, my other mates and Corvina following him closely.

Fynn, who looks freshly out of the shower, slumps into an armchair next to the door while the others remain standing.

Without saying a word, without making any sound, he deposits a transparent glass container onto the small ...