The morning light in the kitchen was too bright, too honest.It spilled over the remains of the pancakes Lucian had made, illuminating the sticky rings of syrup on the table with a clarity that made my head throb.We had said it. We had made the decision to call Kieran, to bring the storm into our sanctuary. But as I looked at Lucian—really looked at him—I saw the shadow of a doubt in the way he held his coffee mug. He was leaning into the "we," but we were building a house on a foundation of "maybe."It was very clear that it was what we were doing. "I can't call him yet," I whispered, the admission feeling like a confession of treason.Lucian set his mug down, the ceramic clicking sharply against the wood. "Sera, we discussed this. The longer we wait, the more it looks like a tactical move. If we want him to respect the boundaries, we have to be the ones to set the narrative.""I can't set a narrative when I don't know the true plot, Lucian," I countered, my voice rising just enoug
最終更新日 : 2026-05-06 続きを読む