{ "Illusion is needed to disguise the emptiness within."}
Hours later, the fire had burned low, the plans were set in for Bloodstone Mountain. The others were still inside, voices fading into murmurs behind the walls of the Mira house as I slipped out the side door and into the cool night air.
The moment I hit the edge of the trees, I let out the breath I had been holding for what felt like hours. Her scent was everywhere, and it clung to the old wood, to the fabric of the chairs, to my damn skin. It was not perfume, it was power. Warm, golden, and threaded with something ancient that stirred my beast like a long-forgotten drumbeat. Every time she moved, every time her voice wrapped around a word like it was hers to own, I felt myself slide closer to the edge, and my control was slipping thread by thread. I found the cave near the Mira house just a shallow cut in the stone behind the brush, and slipped inside, heart hammering like I had just run miles instead of ten feet from her.
