The throne room was filled with hushed voices as word traveled like wildfire. Isla, Kael's chosen mate, is accused of treason. Kael himself was in the middle, standing tall, icy gaze as he saw his pack muttering amongst themselves. He sensed the mistrust, the doubt, stirring within Isla. But his chest constricted at the thought of her being alone, shut off, afraid.
Isla leaned against the door, her shoulders square but her fingers trembling. She scanned the room, seeing accusatory glares, the sidelong whispers. She fought tears, unwilling to be weak. Memories of a past she could not remember consumed her, disjointed and torturous—faces, pain, and a cry calling out for her. Whose voice, though, had called for her?
Riley approached Kael, his expression serious. "The pack's agitated. They w
