Malakar's POV.
I stand at the base of the stairs, arms crossed, expression carved from stone. The warm laughter drifting toward me from the tree line doing little to soften the storm building in my chest.
There they are — Hope, Morgana, Lucian, and Sarah — strolling out of the forest like a pack of teenagers sneaking in after curfew. The moment Hope’s eyes meet mine, her smile falters. Good. She should know exactly how much trouble she's in. They slow as they reach me, the weight of my glare silencing whatever joke had just been shared.
“Nice of you all to drop in,” I say coldly. “Had a fun little field trip, did we?”
Hope steps forward, chin raised, that familiar fire in her eyes. “We got what we needed. I didn’t have a choice, Malakar. I had to act fast.”
“You didn’t have a choice?”
