Bryson's POV

The city smelled different tonight. Less like smoke and cement, more like rain-slicked stone and the ghost of something soft-vanilla, maybe. A scent I couldn't stop chasing even when I should have let go.

I had handled the fallout. Fought, begged, threatened-whatever it took to calm the council and quiet the Seraphina's family long enough to breathe. Long enough to finally come back to her.

To Evelyn.

I hadn't touched a phone and hadn't reached out. There ...