POV: Nyxara
I couldn't stop shaking. Even after Veyr helped me to my feet, even after we made it to the council room where Elder Morwen waited, my hands trembled like leaves in a storm.
"Sit," the old woman commanded, her ancient eyes moving between Veyr and me. "Both of you."
We sat on opposite sides of the table, but I could still feel him. The mate bond hummed between us, alive and electric after what we'd shared.
"Tell me exactly what you saw," Morwen said.
Veyr spoke first, his voice rough. "Nyxara chained to an altar. Hooded figures performing some kind of ritual. Her uncle was there, and they were going to.." He stopped, his jaw clenching. "They were going to kill her."
"But it wasn't now," I added, my mind racing through the details. "I was younger. Smaller. Maybe twelve year
