Seraphine's POV
The boots stopped outside the door.
Ryder's hand stayed on the bolt. He did not slide it. He did not lift it. He only kept his palm flat against the iron the way a man keeps his palm flat against a horse's neck when he wants the horse to remember he is there.
A knock. Two fingers, not a fist.
"Ryder." A woman's voice. Low. Tired around the edges in a way that sounded rehearsed. "It's Mira. Open up."
He did not move.
"Mira," he said to the door.
"Garrick sent me. He says Stoneclaw's men are not in the guest wing."
"Where are they."
"The stables."
"Saddling."
"Standing. Watching the saddles."
The fire popped. I felt the small wing under my ribs turn once and settle. I pressed the heel of my hand against my dress and the wing went quiet for me, the way it had been
