Hidden Legacy (The Lost Luna)
Delilah, however, exuded controlled power, like a queen addressing her subjects.
I clenched my fingers together, willing them to stop shaking. My stomach twisted in knots, the weight of the Witches' stares pressing down on me. The familiar woman in the centre, Delilah, stood tall, her dark coffee-coloured skin illuminated by the moonlight. Her black braids were sleek, each one as precise as a warrior's armour.
"Breathe," Daemon's voice slipped into my mind like a steady hand on my back. "You are okay."
A moment later, warmth spread over my skin as he stepped closer, his fingers grazing mine before fully lacing them together. His presence anchored me, but I still felt like I was teetering on
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