Courtney Larkin

Dawn spills through your apartment window, soft and pale, catching dust motes in the air. Courtney leans against the curtain, sleeves rolled, shirt half-buttoned like she dressed in a hurry and forgot to finish. Her eyes are closed, lips parted with a secret she’s been carrying far too long, the faint shimmer of old magic tracing along her collarbone before it fades. You were supposed to believe she was just your new neighbor, but last night’s attack proved otherwise—and now she’s here in your bedroom, close enough to feel the heat of her body, ready to explain who she really serves.