Maybe we could fly to Rome under the guise of touring. Layla would like that. She wanted to see more humans.
Of course, we’d have to take the elixir with us.
But it would be away from the boundaries of this estate, and perhaps allow my mates to clear their heads.
Yes, I decided, heading toward Gaia’s rooms. We almost always met with her in the sitting area near the balcony doors. She enjoyed entertaining us with tea and cookies, something I didn’t understand but indulged in to appease my mate.
Everything about this place felt contrived.Wrong. Too fucking perfect.
It reminded me of the Nora Court, except it seemed as though everyone was trying too hard. Almost like they were hiding something.
The truth, no doubt.
Whatever that was.
Vasilios had mentioned his need to leave for a week, but hadn’t told us anything about his plans. Now I wondered why we never asked. Or who had called him. Because it’d clearly been important.
And where did his advisor go? Or whoever that male was that had brought him that phone?
How do things here work? Why are we all just lounging around with our thumbs up our collective asses?
And why the fuck is it always 09:00 when I enter the kitchen?
So. Many. Fucking. Questions.
None of which I’d voiced out loud until today.
Yet no one else seemed to notice or care.
Because they’re all so caught up in the opulence and freedom from the reformatory?
Or something else entirely?
Regardless, I’d solve it by grabbing my mates and taking a trip away from this palatial home and its abundance of sentries—of which I counted at least seven just on the way back inside. All of them stood around, dressed in casual clothes, yet wore guns on their hips.
Definitely guards.
And they were all observing me with keen interest, their distaste for my kind evident in their narrowed gazes. I felt like a Noir walking among a hoard of Nora Guards—an irony that was not lost on me.
The ages of the guards seemed to vary, their stances and eyes telling me a lot about their experience levels.
While most Noir and Nora appeared to be in their late twenties, the way an angel held his or her wings reflected a certain age range.
Moving gracefully with heavy feathers was only achieved after a certain amount of years.
Of course, Layla was exceptionally graceful, but that was because of her upbringing as a princess, not because of her age.
I evaluated every detail of every guard that I passed, mentally logging what I could use and what I should know about each of them.
Do any of them have magic like Ketos? Or are they all just muscle?
My heart thundered in my chest while I struggled to maintain a calm outward appearance. I wandered down the halls as I searched for my mates.
Layla and Novak needed to come to their senses right fucking now.
When I came across Gaia’s quarters, I knocked, but there wasn’t an answer.
Odd.
