AMAYA
It’s been three nights since Lucian cornered me in the hall, and every second since then, I’ve been walking on broken glass.
No matter how careful I am, I feel his eyes on me. Not all the time, Lucian’s too smart to make it obvious, but just enough to keep me on edge. When I’m carrying linens, he’s at the end of the corridor.
When I’m clearing dishes, he happens to pass through the kitchen, dropping a casual comment that makes Trish glance between us suspiciously. He doesn’t say anything outright, but it’s like he’s daring me to slip up.
I can’t afford that.
The ancient archive hasn't yielded anything I can use. Old records, border maps, faded journals, none of them gives me the weaknesses I need. Darian's rule is airtight, and Grayhide Pack's power is buried deep in bloodlines
