One of the guards who had been working under Lyra for years hurried to her as she stepped foot into the field where the slaves were all working. She stood immobile, eyes fixated on the male guard as she reached where she stood and bowed to her.
She knew he had something to say, as they were more like messengers or maybe more than that too.
“What is it?” she inquired, recalling that she had given the guard a task to resolve. “Did you find out who did it?” she asked again. This time, the guard raised his head and nodded. She winked at him to approach closer, and the guard did. Then, he whispered into her ear.
Her brows wrinkled. How dare a slave tamper with someone's life even in her situation? A werewolf, for that matter.
“Where is she now?” her face chiseled as she asked the guard. “B
