The Devil's Broken Doll
“I didn’t mean right now. Just—eventually.”
“No,” Apollo repeated, stepping closer. His fangs flashed again, a brief, involuntary reveal. “Not soon. Not until you understand what those wings are doing to your body.” His proximity carried heat and threat and something that felt like pleading disguised as law.
Cael’s gaze flicked between them. He said nothing. But his shadow tightened again, attentive.
Adelaide shifted her weight again, unconsciously testing her new balance. The wings responded at once—lifting a fraction higher than before, heat blooming along her spine in a controlled, deliberate ripple rather than a startled flare.
Bab Populer