The morning air in the grand hall felt cold and stagnant, heavy with the scent of an impending trap.When Rose descended the grand staircase, she did not find the usual bustling dawn patrol. Instead, the entire high circle was assembled in a rigid semicircle around the long oak table. Ace stood at the head, his jaw locked so tightly the muscle leaped in his cheek. Jax and Aunt Mira were flanked to his left, their postures intensely guarded.
At the center of the room stood Delegate Vane, his black leather ledger closed on the table and a long, velvet-lined case resting beside it.
"Ah, the subject of our week long observation," Vane said, his smooth, dry voice cutting through the silence as Rose reached the floorboards. His slate-gray eyes were sharper than they had been all week. "Perfect
