Orion’s POV

The aroma of fresh coffee and scrambled eggs filled the dining room, masking the tension that had settled in the air like an uninvited guest. I sat at the head of the table, nursing a cup of coffee that had long gone cold.

Ava was next to me, her eyes glued to her phone, her movements careful, calculated—like a queen surveying her kingdom. Across from her sat Holly, bundled up in a thick sweater despite the warmth in the room. She looked frail, but her eyes sparkled with a rare kind of strength.

Breakfast was an exercise in torture. The dining room was bathed in golden light, but...