POV: Nyxara
The necklace hung from Theron's fingers like a death sentence. My mother's blood, dried and brown, stained the silver chain. The world narrowed to that single point, that tiny piece of evidence that my entire life had been a lie.
"Where did you get that?" My voice came out strangled.
"I told you. Your uncle." Theron's smile never wavered. "He's quite thorough in his work. Even dug up the grave himself to retrieve it."
Rage and grief warred inside me, but I forced them down. I needed to think. Needed to survive.
"I'll go with you," I said clearly. "Leave the stronghold alone. Leave these packs alone. I'll come willingly."
"No!" Veyr tried to stand again, his wounds still bleeding. "Don't you dare."
"Absolutely not," Zephyr added, moving to my side.
Rhex stepped in front
