Malcolm's heart pounded against his ribcage as he watched the hybrid woman leap from the cliff with Seraphina in her arms. From his concealed position behind the treeline, he had witnessed everything—the terrifying transformation, the slaughter, the raw power that had poured from the maid's body.
A Selenia. Not just any Selenia, but the daughter of Gabrielle herself.
He fought to control his breathing as he processed what this meant. General Marcus was dead, along with all their soldiers. A complete failure of their mission. Yet within this disaster lay the greatest opportunity of Malcolm's miserable life.
"The King will reward me beyond measure," he whispered to himself, touching the shadow amulet hanging from his neck—his emergency escape route. "I'll be promoted from a lowly information gatherer to his trusted advisor."
But first, he needed to cover his tracks. If the Lycans discovered evidence of what truly happened here...
