Isabella Hawthorne
The sleek black car carrying Damien melted into the gathering twilight, its taillights winking like malevolent red eyes before disappearing completely. I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding, the silence of the departing vehicle pressing down on me. A strange hollowness settled in my stomach, a feeling I couldn't quite place.
"Seems like someone's a little mopey," Ashley's voice teased from beside me. Her tone was light, but her eyes held a knowing glint.
I shot her a glare, the warmth creeping up my cheeks betraying my attempt at nonchalance.
"Mopey? I'm not mopey."
"Oh, come on, Isabella," she prodded, nudging me with her elbow. "You can't tell me you weren't a little… flustered when the King practically declared his undying loyalty right there in the
