Draven
Getting under Valtira’s nerves had never been part of anything I imagined when I woke this morning.
Yet I had done exactly that.
I should not have pushed her. Should not have stood so firmly against her wishes when I could clearly see the storm gathering behind her eyes. The memory of her expression — wounded, furious, betrayed — clawed relentlessly at my chest.
But what was I meant to do?
Turn away someone begging for refuge at my gates?
Deny shelter to a woman who had barely escaped death?
No. Every instinct in me had screamed that helping her was the right thing. The only honorable thing.
And yet… why did doing what was right feel so terribly wrong?
I paced the length of the council hall, my boots echoing dully against the stone floor where, only a short while ago, I had
