Luna was twelve hours old when Seraphina made the decision that would define the resistance.
"You're not going," Damon said flatly, blocking the doorway to their Geneva safe house. "You gave birth half a day ago."
"And our people are being loaded onto transport trucks as we speak." Seraphina finished adjusting the baby carrier that Helena had modified with protective wards. Luna rested against her chest, silver-gold eyes alert and watching. "I'm not staying here while they disappear into government black sites."
"Sera, be reasonable—"
"Reasonable?" Her voice carried an edge that made Damon's wolf instincts step back. "They're using the registration lists we helped create. Every supernatural being who trusted us enough to come forward is now a target. That's on me."
Dr. Morrison emerged from the medical bay, disapproval written across her face. "Absolutely not. You need rest, proper nutrition, and recovery time. This is medically inadvisable."
