JASMINE'S POV
The car ride to the Council estate was quiet, but not peaceful.
Aiden sat beside me in the back seat, dressed in a black, tailored suit that fit a little too perfectly. The top button of his shirt was undone, no tie, but he still looked like power personified.
He kept glancing at me, probably trying to read something from my posture, my silence, my refusal to look back at him.
I focused on the window. The trees passed in a blur. My reflection stared back, green satin dress, minimal jewellery, and mild makeup. Not for him. Not for anyone. Just armor.
"You look…" he started, then hesitated. "Powerful."
I didn't answer.
Lyra purred. "Damn right."
When the car pulled up to the massive stone mansion that served as the Council's estate, a valet opened the door, and we stepped out into the flood of golden lights and elite whispers.
The Council didn't throw casual parties. This was political theatre wrapped in champagne.
