Vengeance is a Seed

Elvira

The night stretched on.

I sat on the edge of the bed, my fingers tangled in the knit hem of my sleeve, my heart too heavy for my chest. The room still smelled faintly of Cassian’s cologne, that cool, evergreen scent that faded when he left, but lingered just enough to remind me this wasn’t a dream.

Callan was dead.

I kept blinking, waiting for the burn behind my eyes to go away. It didn’t. I had wept ...