DARIAN
The incense always made me want to vomit. Too sweet, too thick, like trying to swallow guilt with honey.
Lyra's hand hovered in front of mine again, open like a question. Her smile didn't reach her eyes. It never did anymore. I knew what the council saw when they looked at her, golden, poised, perfect. I saw the calculation behind her lips.
The high seer's voice, droned on, ancient and cracked. The third pre-bond ritual this moon. The third time my body screamed no while my mind muttered, just finish it.
My wolf bared his teeth, low growls trembled beneath my ribs.
I reached forward, our hands touched and the rejection came like ice through bone.
A full body flinch. My wolf recoiled like she'd burned him. No spark, just the sharp sting of wrong.
A few council members glance
