The week following their agreement had been an exercise in controlled awkwardness.
Seria came to the estate every other evening, as scheduled. She and Damien would work together – reviewing demon activity reports, coordinating guard operations, building the tactical partnership that had brought them together. Then, carefully, they'd work on the anchor bond – small touches, brief moments of intimacy, learning each other.
On alternate evenings, Elara had her time. The established rhythm of their deeper connection, the intimacy born from months of shared history.
It was working. Technically.
But there was a careful distance between the two women that felt increasingly artificial. Polite acknowledgment when their schedules overlapped. Professional courtesy. No actual connection beyond their shared attachment to Damien.
Tonight was different.
