TURTELA The instant Akasha stops moving, a shift settles in my bones, her eyes meet not just one pair of crimson-gold eyes, but two, staring back through the pale light of the moonlit space between us. Everything nearby hushes, held breathless by a quiet so sharp it felt like knowing someone down to their core. Then nothing moves at all. Mates. Not one. Two. A figure rises ahead, tallest of the pair, shoulders wide, hair like midnight, with an intimidating aura. Not a flicker showed on his face, yet his stare stays locked on Akasha. Beside him the other moves, lean build, angular cheekbones, eyes glinting with quiet tricks. Showing on both their arm guards, stitched in deep relief, sits the emblem of vampire nobility - the mark of the bloodline throne. Adrian’s family. Akasha takes a step back, nearly stumbling into me. I catch her elbow gently, steady her, and whisper low enough for only her ears, “Breathe, Akasha. Just breathe.” “I can’t,” she whispers. “Why—why them? W
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