VANESSA
"Hide in your hotel room, and stay put."
Wesley's command hung in the smoke-filled air between us. His eyes, normally warm amber, had hardened into something unyielding as he gripped my shoulders outside the burning restaurant.
"I'm not hiding while people are dying," I shot back, pulling away from his grasp. The explosion had sent everyone into chaos, but something inside me had clicked into place—a calm, focused clarity that felt strangely familiar.
"Vanessa, please." His voice cracked with desperation. "You don't understand. You're a target."
"I can fight." The words came automatically, as natural as breathing. "I've trained for this."
His face twisted with frustration. "You're not a warrior anymore. You're the Luna of Moonstone and—"
"I'm not helpless," I snapped, bristling at his dismissal.