“Whatever you choose to say,” he murmurs, too low for the crowd to hear, “it will be the right thing.”
The words make the ache in my chest grow. For a man who doesn’t know me—not really—he seems to understand more than I want to admit.
I’m about to test his theory on words when something makes me scan the crowd.
Seth is halfway back, kneeling with the others, but his head is tilted up. Following his line of sight, I spot it—a black shape perched motionless in the mira tree above us.
A crow.
My stomach drops as Thane’s words from that first day echo in my memory:“Shifter. Council representative. Nyx.”
When I look back at Seth, the dread on his face confirms what I already know.
This isn’t just a bird.
A rush of black wings cuts through the murmurs like a blade. The crowd breaks like a flock startled to flight, instinct bowing them even before the crow touched the ground.
Fear. Pure, instinctive fear.
A shadow drops from the sky, landing between me and the crowd with more grace than should be possible.
Feathers dissolve into flesh mid-fall. Black hair, sharp cheekbones, eyes that gleam with too much intelligence to be fully human.
Nyx.
This can’t be good.
She straightens slowly, brushing imaginary dust from her dark clothes, and the easy smile curving her lips makes my stomach drop. This isn’t someone who just happened to be in the neighborhood.
She doesn’t bow. Doesn’t kneel. Doesn’t show even the pretense of respect.
Instead, she tilts her head at Thane, gaze flicking between the silver strand still glowing between us and his carefully controlled expression.
Her smile widens into something sharp and knowing.
“Tsk, tsk,” she purrs, voice slicing through the stunned silence like a blade. “Now, Thane… youknowbetter.”
Chapter 10
Stellan
I lounge against the sanctuary doorframe like I have all the time in the world and watch the show unfold.
While the others bristle—Rhett’s heat spiking, Gray’s shoulders rolling as something wild flickers behind his eyes, Jace going perfectly still in that dangerous way of his—I find myself genuinely entertained.
Nyx has always been theatrical. But there’s an art to the way she commands a space, the way three hundred Feeders instinctively cower without her saying a word. She doesn’t need to raise her voice. Her presence alone is enough to remind everyone exactly who holds the leash.
She doesn’t bow. Doesn’t even acknowledge the Source at Thane’s side.
Instead, she focuses on Thane with the kind of disappointed smile that suggests intimate knowledge.
“Oh, Thane,” she purrs, circling him like a predator savoring wounded prey. “Look at you. All that control, all that discipline—and for what?”
The silver strand still glows between him and Bree, impossible to ignore. Nyx’s gaze follows it with something that might be amusement if it weren’t so cold.
“After everything,” she continues, voice dropping to something almost intimate. “After all of our interludes, our…exploration. How quick you forget where you used to spend your nights.” She pauses, letting that sink in. “You choose to bind yourself to her?”
Bree goes rigid beside Thane. I catch the exact moment doubt creeps across her face—not jealousy, though there’s that too. Something deeper. A question about what exactly Thane’s relationship with the Council entails.
