(Vera’s POV)

The door creaked wider, and for a heartbeat, the world held its breath.

Elara stepped into the cellar as if she were descending from another realm—graceful, cold, untouchable. Her boots left wet prints on the stone floor, and the faint smell of gunpowder followed her like perfume.

I rose slowly, my body positioning itself between her and Vanessa.

“Elara,” I whispered.

“Vera.” Her voice was calm, almost soothing. “You look… alive. That’s disappointing.”

She ...