The air in the library felt like it had been sucked out of a vacuum. Daenery watched the way the dust motes danced in the pale light, oblivious to the horrific names listed on the parchment beneath her hand. The coordinates for the Obsidian Waste felt like a brand against her eyes, looking more like a digital death warrant than a simple list. Kaels hand was still over hers, his heat the only thing keeping her from drifting away into the cold shock of Michelles confession.
Kael stood abruptly, the heavy legs of his chair barking against the stone floor. His eyes were no longer the soft violet of the morning; they were the dark, endless void of an Alpha Prince preparing for a modern war.
Soren, Renric, Kaels voice was a low, vibrating chord of command that made the Vanguards at the door sn
