(Daciana POV)
My sister stepped toward me, and the Blood Feather mark on her throat glowed beneath the blackening moon.
“I survived him.”
That answer stole my breath.
Because survival was not innocent.
But survival was also not simple guilt.
For one terrible moment, I saw not a villain, not a rival, and not a false heir, but the baby Rudina had kissed before shadow swallowed her.
Then Otsana Blackmoon lifted her hand, and the marked servants dragged Tala to her feet with a chain tight around her throat.
The softness inside me died quickly.
“You are not here to mourn with me,” I said, letting my wolf rise behind my eyes.
“No,” she answered, and her smile returned with the cold cruelty Adolphus had planted deeply enough to flower.
“I am here to make sure both packs see which daugh
