Cassian bound Ronan before the echo of Mira’s scream had faded from the trees.
The moon-silver chains came from the travelling supply chest and had been forged for corrupted Lycans, traitors, and prisoners whose wolves could not be trusted to remain beneath human skin. They were crude compared with the ceremonial restraints kept beneath Blackstone Palace, but no less effective. Each link had been treated with powdered wolfsbane and blessed beneath a winter moon, ensuring the metal burned through Lycan healing faster than flesh could repair itself.
Ronan stood in the centre of the hunting lodge and offered no resistance.
Blood darkened the torn collar of his shirt where the Sovereign Mark had split his skin, and the bruising around Zinnia’s throat deepened each time she swallowed. The ha
