That name hovered between us like smoke that refused to dissipate. The Ashen Veil. Even the thought of it was reckless, like the shadows themselves might lean in to hear.
Wren didn’t deny it. That silence was damning enough. She had a whole arsenal of quips, could cut men down with a single smirk, but tonight she gave me nothing. No shield of mockery. No dagger of wit. Only silence.
“Vivian,” Gideon said softly, his gaze locked on Wren. “You see it too.”
I wanted to speak. To demand answers. To shake her until she had told me every secret she had ever folded into those cunning hands. But the words tangled in my throat. For beneath my doubt, beneath the sharp coil of fear, was something else entirely, I needed her.
Wren finally lifted her chin, meeting my eyes. “If you think I’ve betray
