"I really should be going now," I said to Ethan, desperate to escape his questions about my father. "My mom must be waiting for me."
The mention of my father had brought back all those memories I'd fought so hard to forget. The screams. The blood. His eyes—vacant and lifeless. I needed to get out of here before the panic attack I felt brewing took over completely.
"I'm sorry if I upset you, Elara," Ethan said, genuine regret in his eyes. "I didn't mean to bring up painful memories."
I managed a tight smile. "It's fine. Really. I just... it's getting late."
He nodded, leading me back through the winding corridors toward the living room where I'd left my mother. As we approached, I heard raised voices. One of them—unmistakably my mother's—sounded angry.
"Absolutely not!" My mother's voice was sharp, clearer as we drew closer. "How dare you even suggest such a thing? She's just turned eighteen! She'll find her mate soon!"
