Thoren
Kael laughed so hard he nearly dropped the sword he was inspecting.
I grinned, rolling my shoulder. “I told you. She put the fork down and said, ‘I don’t know what the hell that was, but it made my toes curl.’”
Kael wheezed. “Michelle said that?”
“She did. Right in front of the baker.”
“I swear, you’re going to have to muzzle her.”
“I’ll try.” I sheathed the blade and handed it back. “But she’ll just chew through it.”
Kael was about to fire off a response when the door slammed open behind us.
Nevara.
Storm-eyed. Dead silent. A manila envelope clutched in one hand like a weapon.
Kael’s smirk faded. “Well. That can’t be good.”
I stepped toward her, pulse kicking up. “What is it?”
She didn’t look at Kael. Didn’t smile. Just marched straight up and slapped the envelope into
