Bryn’s eyes widened. I never cried. Not when anyone could witness it.

I turned my face away, but I could sense her watching me silently, without judgment. I had no answers for Bryn. Or for myself.

TWO

WHEN I OPENED THE FRONT DOOR TO MY house, my body went rigid. I could smell the visitors. Aged parchment, fine wine: Lumine Nightshade’s scent exuded an aristocratic elegance. But her guards filled the house with an unbearable odor, boiling pitch and burnt hair.

“Calla?” Lumine’s voice dripped with honey.

I cringed, trying to gather my wits before I walked into the kitchen with my mouth glued shut. I didn’t want to taste the creatures as well as smell them.

Lumine sat at the table across from her pack’s current alpha, my father. She remained impossibly still, posture perfect, chocolate tresses caught in a chignon at the back of her neck. She wore her typical immaculate ebony suit and crisp high-collared white shirt. Two wraiths flanked her, looming shadowlike just over her slim shoulders.

I sucked in my cheeks so I could bite the insides. It was the only thing that kept me from baring my teeth at the bodyguards.

“Have a seat, my dear.” Lumine gestured to a chair.

I pulled the chair close to my father, crouching rather than sitting in it. I couldn’t relax with the wraiths nearby.

Does she already know about the violation? Is she here to order my execution?

“Little more than a month of waiting left, lovely girl,” she murmured. “Are you looking forward to your union?”

I let out the breath I didn’t know I’d been holding.

“Sure,” I said.

Lumine brought the tips of her fingers together in front of her face.

“Is that the only word you have to offer about your auspicious future?”

My father barked a laugh. “Calla’s not the romantic her mother is, Mistress.”