SERAPHINA "SERA" MORTEZ'S POINT OF VIEW
"Good evening—ma'am? Are you alright?!"
The woman behind the inn's front desk was staring at me, her brow furrowed with worry. I'd just stepped inside, Ace's leather vest still heavy on my shoulders, smelling of smoke and pine from the woods. I'd followed his directions exactly-this was where we were supposed to meet.
My gaze drifted down to my dress, dark stains flecked across the fabric. "I'm fine," I said, forcing a smile. But the way she kept glancing at my clothes told me she didn't believe it. I let it go.
"I'd like to book a room... walk-in," I added, feeling heat creep up my neck. I'd never done this before—never walked into a place like this alone to ask for a room. It made my hands shake where I clutched Ace's wallet.
She softened, her smile warm. "What name will you be using? Come closer, please-I can barely see you from here."
I moved to the counter, sliding my fingers over the cool wood. "Seraphina Mortez."
