“When you called me saying you needed my help with ‘magic stuff,’ this wasn’t what I had in mind.” Breyona frowned; her eyebrows gnashed together. She had a gentler version of Asher’s expression, who stood a few feet to her left, so still he looked carved from stone. Her eyes flitted down to the dark bra and underwear combo I wore; the one Asher had picked out just a few weeks ago. “…I really need to start training again. I never realized how many calories shifting burned.”

“I hear you and Giovanni train pretty hard already.” I replied smoothly, my lips twitching as I resisted the urge to laugh.

She flicked her chestnut hair over her shoulder and scoffed, “Tristan’s an asshole.”

Rowena flitted into the room, a blur of auburn hair and pale skin. Like a hummingbird, she was light on her feet. She rummaged through trunks, glass bottles clinking and papers scratching against one ano