BITTERSWEET PART 3: ARMATA AND CALISTA

Armata / Levi

As the sleek black car rolls up the gravel path leading to Calista’s sprawling mansion, her sighs fill the silence that has cocooned us during the drive back from her day out—a luxury she partakes in with the freedom of a bird that doesn’t know its wings could be clipped any second by the lurking hunter.

She’s been in a sour mood ever since we left the boutique after her training, a mood that curdled further with every smitten look thrown my way by the store attendants. I get it—she wants to feel normal, unobserved, and my towering presence does nothing but draw more eyes.

It doesn’t bother me; my presence isn’t meant to be a comforting one. I’m here to protect, not to pamper or to please.

The ride is silent, charged with her silent wrath. I can’t help but find it almost amusing—the way she’s trying to simmer me with glares that I feel but never meet.

I keep my eyes on the road, on the shadows between the trees, on the lookout for anything amiss. Her safety is my respon