MAEVE'S POV
I followed Francis behind the group of tall trees, my gaze darting back toward the clearing in the faint hope of catching sight of Ivan's wolf.
No such luck.
"Is this about what just happened back there?" I asked. "Because I have a lot of questions, Francis—starting with what in the goddess's name I just witnessed."
He stopped and turned to face me, arms crossing over his chest as he took a slow, measured breath. But he didn't speak right away. His silence only made my pulse thud harder in my ears.
"Francis." I stepped closer, unwilling to let him stall. "I'm not standing out here all night waiting for you to gather your thoughts. The ritual failed, Ivan nearly ripped your priest in half, and you dragged me out here—so start talking."
For a moment, he just looked at me, as if weighing whether he should even say what was on his mind. Then, finally—
"I called you out here, Maeve, because I want to talk to you about Ivan's wolf."
