Elaria’s POV
I stared at her.
No, I think I stared through her and was trying to figure out what she was trying to prove here.
My head is checking through the shimmering silver curtain of her newly dyed white hair, through the sickly sweet smile plastered across her face like everyone there belonged to her, and through the way she inserted herself so effortlessly into a room she had no right to walk into, let alone command the attention of everyone towards her.
My foster sister, my tormentor, my ghost of every terrible memory. What is she trying to prove by being in my husband’s house at the moment, standing tall and proud, with silver hair, in front of the Lycan King, claiming blood that wasn’t hers?
And she was smiling right at me, knowingly.
My mouth dried, and the air in the ha
