Meanwhile, across the hotel, behind warded doors in the guest suites, Thomas was conducting a reckoning of his own.
His private suit was dim, warded, heavy with silence.
Sera sat first—hands folded calmly in her lap, posture serene, expression unreadable.
Thomas faced her, wolf bristling just beneath his skin.
“Did you know?” he growled.
Sera did not flinch.
“No,” she said.
Thomas narrowed his eyes. He had always suspected his mate knew far more than she ever revealed—but she possessed a rare gift—the ability to make him believe her. To soothe suspicion into certainty.
She had constantly reminded him, faintly, of Mira.
But only faintly.
Mira had been dark. Seductive. Dangerous enough that he sometimes wondered if she could kill him in his sleep.
Sera was not that.
Sera was calm
