ANWEN'S POV
I wasn’t sure Fenric would take me seriously.
But out of the three of them, he was the least dismissive—the least likely to shut me down before I had even finished speaking.
That didn’t mean he would agree, though. He might find the idea laughable. He might tease me for it. Or worse, turn it into another source of amusement.
And yet, he was my only chance. Fenric listened more than most.
So I took a breath and forced myself to meet his gaze.
The golden light filtering through the autumn leaves caught against his silver-grey eyes as he watched me in silence, waiting.
“Help me free my brother,” I said.
The words left me in a rush, but once they were out, I held my ground. I braced for the same reaction Rhydan had given me—anger, refusal.
Or Brammon’s cold dismissal.
