3 BOOKS. The Lunas of vengeance
But as I approached Dante’s room, I saw something that made my steps falter.
Lucy.
She was walking out of Dante’s room, her hand casually running through her long, silky blonde hair. She was dressed in nothing but a silky robe—one that barely covered her. The satisfied smirk on her face was enough to make my blood run cold.
Our eyes met, and for a split second, I thought maybe—just maybe—I was misinterpreting things. Maybe she had some other reason for being here, and it was all just some kind of misunderstanding.
But then, Lucy raised an eyebrow and smiled—a slow, knowing smile. “Oh, Tamara,” she said in a voice dripping with fake sympathy. “You’re up early.”