Astraea's POV
The first sound that slipped past my lips as I stepped back into the tattoo shop was a scoff. I hadn't even meant to make the sound out loud, but it came anyway, and I knew for a fact that I must have sounded disgusted and bitter.
One look was enough to tell me the truth. The little boy was still there, standing with his smug silence, and Lysandra was beside him, which confirmed to me that they weren't the same person after all.
I turned toward her, my irritation already burning in my voice. "So, if you and he aren't the same person, does this mean you were here all along? You were here, and you were watching me deal with this bratty child instead of coming out to see me?"
Lysandra's amused look shifted slightly, and her tone came out like a warning. "I'd advise you not to call him bratty. He really hates that word."
