Consumed by the Flame

The helicopter ride back to the Sea-Glass Citadel was charged with combustible, unspoken electricity. By the time the Sikorsky touched down on the private clifftop helipad, the storm had passed, leaving behind a crisp, starry night over the roaring Atlantic waves. Adrian led Elena through the double doors of the master suite, tossing his tuxedo jacket onto a leather chair before turning to lock the heavy mahogany doors with a…