LIVIA

The vial sat on my nightstand, a tiny, crystal-clear anchor weighing down my entire existence.

For three days, it had been the only thing I could focus on.

I stared at the crimson liquid, imagining it swirling into a glass of vintage wine or a simple afternoon tea.

It was so small, so deceptively harmless, yet it held the power to delete Yelena from the world.

Three days of waiting had turned the room into a cage.

My skin crawled with the need to move, to hunt, to strike.

Yet ...