Lyra
"Lyra! Come out here! I know you're hiding nearby!"
Cedric’s furious, desperate roar echoed from the empty wooden shack, piercing through the dense tree line and reaching the hidden perimeter of our camp.
I ignored him. I sat cross-legged on a fur rug inside Kael’s massive command tent, carefully dividing a dark, lethal powder into several small glass vials.
My black silk dress clung softly to my waist, the bloodstain on the front completely dried. The wound on my chest had already scabbed over, the pain dulling to a faint ache.
Kael sat in a high-backed leather chair just behind me. His long, muscular legs were casually crossed, his rusted iron mask resting loosely in his grip. He was watching me. I could feel the heat of his dark gold gaze burning into my back.
A Royal Guard k
