Jonas forced himself up, and he eyed the prince with unbridled fury—the sour taste of it rising in his throat. “You act as if you have not just witnessed a miracle . . . and a tragedy.”
“I’ll admit, it was an unexpected sight before the sun has fully risen.” Behind the prince’s droll tone, Jonas heard a quaking. The sight of the Watcher’s death —is that what it had been? Was Phaedra dead?—had shaken Magnus too. “But I’m recovering quickly. Time for a little trip to my father’s dungeon along with your rebel friends. He’ll be very pleased I’ve finally captured you.”
How could he stand there and pretend that none of this mattered? That the world would never be the same? Watchers were not simply legend. Magic was real. Jonas was reeling. “I didn’t murder your mother.”
“I know. Aron Lagaris
