POV: Tristan
The air in the Silver Creek manor had changed. It was no longer thick with the earthy, honest scents of woodsmoke and pine; instead, it felt charged, brittle, as if the very stones were waiting for a c***k to appear. I stood on the second-story balcony, my fingers digging into the cold railing as I watched the courtyard.
Vane was pacing a frantic circle in my mind, his fur metaphorically standing on end. The red-haired one moves like a shadow in high grass, he snarled. The scent of lilies is covering the scent of a trap.
"I know, Vane," I whispered.
Nora had been too quiet since the Moon Stone trial. She hadn't raged; she hadn't thrown a tantrum. Instead, she had spent the last two days being the model of a perfect Beta’s daughter, assisting the healers and organizing the
