EMMA
The silver torque sat on my clipboard like a coiled snake, cold and heavy. The Great Hall was so quiet I could hear the rhythmic hiss of the roaring hearth and the frantic, syncopated thrum of a hundred hearts. Julian was sauntering away, his shoulders broad with the smug satisfaction of a man who had just lit a fuse and walked away from the bomb.
I looked at the necklace—the jagged wolf’s tooth, the raw, brutal silver. It was an insult wrapped in an invitation, a piece of ancient theater designed to make me feel like a prize in a cage match.
"Julian," I called out. My voice didn't shake. It was the voice I used when a contractor tried to bill me for subpar steel.
The rival stopped, turning slowly with a predatory grin. Gabriel was a statue of vibrating fury ten feet away, his cla
