While he showered, Luna wished she wasnβt tied up and could check her phone. Maybe Will had messaged her, some nice line of poetry that she could pretend fixed everything. But Luna had been given no option but to wait silently on the bed for Aresβ return, letting her think about what was to come.
βItβs your night,β Luna told him, her smile small and tight. βYouβre the one calling the shots.β