The medical bay fell into a silence.
The low beeping of the life monitors sounded like a ticking bomb against the sterile white tiles. Gideon’s grip on my elbow tightened, his fingers digging into my arm as his amber eyes flared with a lethal, primal gold.
"The Capital?" Gideon’s voice dropped into a register so dark the glass vials on the counter vibrated. "The High Council wouldn't deploy a targeted bio-weapon on our border without an insider to distribute it."
"They didn't need an insider on the border," Elder Vane said quietly, holding the vial of black fluid up to the harsh fluorescent lights. "The Silverfang supply chains were routed through Capital contractors for six months before Silas marched on High Ridge Lodge. Anyone who ingested their combat rations, their healing salves,
