Lysara’s POV
Ronan’s blade had already begun its ascent when Seris raised one hand, as if casually, and a dozen guards raised their spears in response.
It was all too well-coordinated for my blood not to run cold.
Ronan halted.
I halted with him.
The corridor felt much smaller now, filled with armed wolves who had been waiting for precisely this opportunity.
Seris was not even looking scared.
And that scared me more than the spears.
She was standing several feet away, looking at me in that same calm way in which she had lied to the council several months ago when she had said that I was responsible for the murder of Elowen.
But this time there was no remorse in her eyes.
No tears.
No pretense.
Just satisfaction.
She knew.
She knew exactly who I was.
“H-how,” I tried to sound
