Mordred's PoV:
I stayed in the shadows across the street from the cinema, hood pulled low, hands buried deep in my jacket pockets against the December chill.
The marquee lights cast everything in that sickly red-and-gold glow, turning the sidewalk into some cheap stage set.
I hadn't planned on following Kianna and Lysander. I'd just… ended up here. After seeing her look so broken at school all day, I told myself I was checking on her. Making sure she was okay. That's all.
But when they came out laughing—actually laughing—after whatever dumb movie Lysander had dragged her to, something twisted hard in my chest.
She needed comfort, and it wasn't me giving it to her. It was him, the pretty-boy art kid with his perfect hair and easy smile, always hovering like he was some kind of guardian angel.Then Maddox showed up.
I pressed myself flatter against the brick wall of the closed bookstore,breath fogging in the cold.
