The chains bite into my wrists as the guards drag Lora and me into the chamber. My knees slam against the marble floor, the impact jarring through my bones. But the physical pain is nothing compared to the hollow ache in my chest when I look at my mate beside me. Lora's face is bruised, her dark hair matted with blood at her temple, but her eyes, those eyes that have held mine across countless moonrises, still burn with defiance.
Two days in Council custody.
Two days of questions I refused to answer, blows I refused to yield to. Two days wondering if our daughter made it to safety, if our sacrifice meant anything at all.
The Council chamber stretches before us, twelve members seated in a semicircle on raised platforms like judges in some perverse court. Light filters through stained gla
