“You’re lying,” I spat, my voice trembling with anger.
The figure stood tall before me, his features obscured by the dim light of the cavern. His voice was smooth, laced with an unsettling confidence. "Am I?" he asked, tilting his head. "Think about it, Liana. Why was your father so desperate to keep your wolf dormant? Why did he sell you to Draven like a piece of worthless merchandise?"
My fists clenched at his words. "Because he’s a cruel, heartless man who never saw me as his daughter. But murder? No. He wouldn’t go that far."
The figure let out a dark chuckle. "You underestimate the lengths men will go to protect their secrets."
I wanted to argue, to deny the accusation outright, but a nagging doubt gnawed at the edges of my mind. My mother’s death had always been a gaping
