Wish walked down the villa corridor toward her room, exhaustion pulling at her bones. Her mind kept drifting back to the dinner, replaying their conversation. She caught herself smiling. Stopped. Started again a few steps later.
She stopped.
Her hand was on the door handle.
Every instinct she possessed suddenly screamed.
Her fox senses—even suppressed in human form—were firing on all cylinders. The scent in the air was wrong. The temperature felt off. Something was waiting inside.
Wish's fingers tightened on the handle.
Could be nothing. Could be paranoia.
But her instincts had kept her alive this long.
She pushed the door open.
The room was dark. Moonlight streamed through the window, casting long shadows across the furniture, the overturned chair, the—
Everything looked normal at first glance.
Then she saw her.
Sitting in the high-backed chair near the window like she owned it. Legs crossed. Hands folded in her lap. Eyes reflecting moonlight like a predator's.
Nyla.
