Page 36 of Savage Crown

But she gets closer than most.

Her fingers tighten against the desk. "Who was it from?"

I don’t answer.

Not immediately.

Instead, I shift forward, closing the last of the space between us.

Her breath catches.

Not in fear.

In something else.

"Careful, little thief," I murmur, voice low. "You’re asking the wrong questions."

Her eyes flash. "And what are the right ones?"

I reach past her, lifting the half-finished glass of wine from the desk. Not touching her.

But close enough that I could.

Close enough that I want to.

I take a slow sip, watching her over the rim of the glass.

"Not the ones you want the answers to."

Her throat bobs slightly as she swallows.

A slow, deliberate pause.

"Then tell me anyway."

The fire crackles.

The silence stretches.

“Stay out of it.”

I left her standing there waiting for an answer that won't come.

Should I tell her? If I do, she’ll be pulled even deeper into this war.

I’m not sure I want to watch someone else burn.

16

SERAPHINA

Some wounds never close.

They don’t heal with time, don’t fade into forgotten scars. They fester.

And now, standing in Rylan’s study, staring at the last wisps of burned parchment curling into the fire, I know I’ve found one of his wounds.

A fresh one. A dangerous one.

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