Eldur's POV
It started with a whisper.
A whisper in my head that wouldn't shut up the moment she said yes.
"Yes, I'll stay over."
Nova didn't realize it, but she'd just agreed to sleep in the house of a werewolf-wizard hybrid who had accidentally once melted a stone wall in his sleep. And now she was going to see where I lived. Not visit—sleep there. Overnight. In the same space. With me.
And I was panicking.
But not externally, of course. No. On the outside, I was very much Eldur: calm, collected, smirking with just the right amount of arrogance.
On the inside? I was a grenade rolling down a spiral staircase.
I dropped her off at 24 hours store close to my apartment, to grab a few essentials—still pretending I wasn't secretly timing how long it would take to hide everything in my house that screamed "rich supernatural freak who's bad at emotions."
