But I don’t even turn—I’m frozen by the view. The whole city sprawls before us through floor-to-ceiling glass walls.
Instead of gaudy royal golds like our old monarchy-like horrible home style—this place is modern. Wide. Open. Breathing in the space feels like freedom I’ve never had the luxury even to imagine.
If I live long enough… maybe I’d let myself wish for it. One day.
“I need you to give her something comfortable to wear,” he says, shoving me forward. I nearly fall, but his grip catches me at the last second.
I straighten and find myself staring at another stranger. Younger—looks around Diana’s age.
She’s gorgeous. Long, jet-black hair flows down to her hips. Skin like porcelain.
But her eyes—
One silver gem, identical to Maleciandro’s. The other, ashimmering turquoise gemstone. I really don’t understand what’s going on with this genetic weird eye color.
She’s much shorter than Diana, though. Her head barely reaches my shoulder.
“You should ask Chris. She’s taller. My clothes won’t fit her height,” she says, studying me curiously. “Who is she?”
“Don’t get me involved. I’m not sharing my clothes,” Chris says, reappearing behind her. “I don’t even know how long Malec plans to play with her.”
Maleciandro exhales—a long, exhausted sigh. He’s not even mad. Just… done.
“Chris. Please. She’s not my woman, and I’m not even slightly interested. Stop with your weird little tests. You always do that.”
Chris furrows her brows, staring him down like she’s either trying to read his mind—or set it on fire.
Then she suddenly smiles, stepping up beside me.
“Why didn’t you say so?!”
She turns to me with a grin. “I’m Chris. This is Kayla—Malec’s sister.” Her smile stretches wide, flashing perfect, pearl-white teeth. She looks like she belongs on a magazine cover.
So she’s the sister Maleciandro mentioned…
“Sorry for the attitude. Malec’s not used to having women around other than us, so… every girl who clung to him before, we tried to scare off. Just to see if she’d fight for it,” she chuckles, while Maleciandro runs a hand over his face.
Only now do I realize—my body’s finally relaxing.
Every knot I had since arriving here has started to unravel.
They’re nothing like my uncle and father described.
They always said the Spallos were the biggest threat to our territory. Spoke about them with a quiet kind of fear they never admitted out loud.
Especially Solas.
But this feels like… a real family. A weird one, sure. But real.
No one’s silent. No girl keeps her head down.
Even in front of a man like Maleciandro.
Why did I imagine the worst?
“Could you let go of her hand? You’re cutting off her circulation,” Chris says, prying at Maleciandro’s grip.
“Chris,” he mutters, taking a sharp breath through his nose. “You remember your sparring training?”
