Eliza finished her bath and wrapped herself in the soft aroma of floral oils that permeated the steam-filled room.
The castle was warm despite the snowstorm raging outside; the walls seemed to retain heat as if they were breathing. She put on her light silk pajamas, so fine that the fabric shimmered like water under the firelight, and sat in front of the mirror to brush her hair. The blonde locks fell like a river of liquid gold over her bare shoulders, while her mind wandered far away, toward a memory.
She remembered that she had brought something for Luna.
A small gift she had purchased during her brief escape to San Diego.
She set the brush aside and leaned over the open suitcases at the foot of the bed. The sound of fire filled the silence with a constant crackling while her delicate fingers searched among fabrics and bottles, moving with an almost ritual patience.
Then, the door opened without warning.
Lucian entered without announcing himself.
