Soraya's POV
"What are you doing in my room, Lila?"
The words came out sharp, defensive. My stance was already braced for battle, every muscle taut as I glared at the woman sitting comfortably on my bed like she owned the place.
Lila stood, her movements slow and deliberate, her smile awkward but laced with that familiar mischief I'd come to despise.
"Relax, Soraya," she said smoothly, hands raised in mock surrender. "I'm not here to fight."
My claws refused to come out when I tried to bare them, only making the moment worse.
"Stupid claws," I muttered under my breath, frustrated.
"That doesn't answer my question, Lila," I shot back, taking a wary step closer. "What are you doing in my room?"
She tilted her head, eyes glinting. "Well, I came to see my co-wife. Is there anything wrong with that?"
I folded my arms, unimpressed. "I know you, Lila. Your smile always carries trouble. Please, leave my room."
