As soon as they left the Bloodline Trial space, everyone moved quickly. Time was of the essence.
With Alexis at the lead, they carried Henrietta back to the hotel suite reserved under his name. Inside, it was as quiet as the party venue—completely deserted. The corridors were narrow and still, as if they were the only ones in the world at that moment.
Only the low hum of distant music leaked through the walls.
In the center of the room, on a plain bed, Henrietta lay motionless.
Her chest rose and fell shallowly. Her skin, still warm, bore the wounds she had earned from the Trial—blackened edges where the flames had licked and stubborn dark scars from the fight.
Uriel hovered at the bedside, hands clenched so tightly her knuckles shone white.
Jehanne and Zetian stood by the window, ready to act at any moment if needed.
Xu Tao assessed them all with slow, quiet eyes.
