The rain had long since stopped falling, but the air still felt heavy, charged with everything we had said and everything we hadn't. The kiss Dark had placed on my forehead still burned — gentle, reverent, a promise I wasn't sure I deserved. I had barely stepped into the hallway when the heavy oak doors of the entrance swung open. And the world tilted on its axis. She stood there like a storm made flesh — perfectly tailored suit in the deepest shade of midnight blue, pearls the size of river stones around her neck, and eyes so cold they could have frozen the sun. Doña Elvira Zapanta. Dark’s mother. She swept into the house, her heels clicking sharply against the marble floor like a judgment. Her gaze swept past me — barely a flicker — before landing on Dark, who had stepped out of the kitchen behind me. "You're home," Dark said, his voice steady, but I heard the slight change. The way his shoulders straightened. The way he stepped forward, placing himself between me and her. "I wa
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