Women in the small kingdom of Aeriana are disappearing.
Iris Daniels, a budding painter in the East Territory, is trying to keep her head down. In a kingdom filled with abilities, music, and Destined love, Iris is determined to build a career out of...
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"These city streets scream stories while we sleep."
—Painting Title, ⚜, East City Gallery of Modern Art
Upstairs in one of the Williams' guest rooms, Iris grabbed her bag from behind the door and dropped it onto the bed. Around the room, she collected her minuscule amount of items. Really, it wasn't much more than a t-shirt strung over the chair in the corner, a pair of dark sweatpants she'd left at the bottom of the bed, and her toothbrush, hairbrush, and deodorant from the bathroom.
Wylan knocked on the door frame as he entered.
Iris appreciated having his presence there. "What about all of your stuff?"
"I never unpacked," he told her, closing the door behind them. "I'm always ready to grab and go."
"Thad?"
"Is gathering his own stuff and readying the car," Wylan leaned against the wall.
It took her less than five minutes to stuff her personals into her backpack. If she were honest with herself, it was all items she could live without—things that, if she left them behind, it wouldn't cripple her. Whether Wylan knew that and still let her grab her things was unclear, but she appreciated it all the same. They were small, but they were the only bit of familiarity she had on this wild ride.
She focused on gathering her things. And then, all too soon, she was ready.
Zipping her bag closed, her feet stopped. That wall she'd been able to keep up while distracted came crashing down. It all flooded back in. Her parents, the news, the anxiety and panic waiting for her to drop her guard.
It was the anxiety that hurt the most. She felt like she couldn't quite catch her breath. As if the room had turned into a vacuum and slowly sucked the very air from the room.
"Hey, hey," Wylan's hand hovered near her arm. "Deep breaths for me."
Iris looked up at him. Whatever expression she had on her face had him pulling her close to him. He wrapped his arms around her.
Wylan smelled like leather with a whispering undertone of cologne. His warmth surrounded her. She knew it was not a good idea to get close to this agent, and yet...
And yet.
She found herself sinking into him. Something in her settled.
Wylan rubbed the top of her back. "You're fine."
She laughed humorlessly. "That doesn't help the anxiety so much, but I appreciate the effort to soothe."
Pulling back, she made herself take a deep breath. Power through it, Iris.
Wylan's hand hovered in the air in her direction. Slowly, he put it at his side. "You alright?"
