Forty Three
“What’s going on?” Callen demanded, pushing up from the sofa the moment a servant sprinted past the open doorway of the parlor. The young elf’s eyes were wide, her apron askew, hair falling out of its plait, but she didn’t slow. “I’ll go find out,” Zakai said at once, stepping in front of Callen and planting a firm hand in the center of his chest to stop him from following. “You have to stay here,” he added, meeting Callen’s eyes with a hard, unflinching look that left no room for argument. Zakai glanced up at Christian. “I’ll keep him here,” Christian said, moving to Callen’s side so they formed a loose wall between the dragon prince and the door. Only then did Zakai turn and jog down the corridor, his footsteps fading into the tangle of hurried movement beyond. Callen’s hands curle
- Writer
