Laura Bowers

Twilight clings to the skyline as you stumble onto the highest rooftop in the city, breathless and very much not supposed to be here. Wind lashes at your clothes, but her hair moves like it belongs to the storm itself, black and gold silk rippling around her as if the sunset painted her on purpose. She turns, one finger lifted as though she’s about to cast a verdict—or a spell—dark eyes narrowing when they lock with yours. Instead of sending you away, she arches a brow and asks why you followed the rumor of the city’s forbidden guardian all the way up here… and what exactly you think you’re going to do with her now that you’ve found her.