Vespera froze on the spot, ice-cold all over.
Her arm, where Helena had clamped down so violently, stung dully. She was fairly certain the woman's manicured nails had broken the skin.
That physical pain was nothing compared to the knife twisting deep in her chest.
She stared down at the woman who had given birth to her, then lifted her gaze to her father, her older sister, and her younger brother...
Every single one of them stood in heavy silence, wordlessly endorsing Helena's desperate plea.
"Mom, you overestimate my worth. If Cassian Thorne cared about me in the slightest, do you honestly think I would have been discarded and banished to Iceland?"
Her words were laced with bitter self-mockery. She wrenched her arm free and turned to leave.
That was when Mortimer stepped forward. "
