Elira’s POV

The ride back to the Moretti mansion was cold, fast, and silent.

I was in the back of the armored car, alone. The two wounded bodies—Aiden and Amara—were secured in a separate vehicle, sent to a private medical facility under heavy guard.

My fury felt like a frozen, protective layer, but underneath, something was horribly wrong.

Halfway down the highway, a sudden, unfamiliar nausea hit me. It was so intense it forced a gasp from my lips. I pounded on the dividing window and ordered the driver to stop immediately. I stumbled out of the car and violently vomited on the side of the road, my body wracked...