LUCY
"Don't reject me."
Tavric's words ring like a lullaby in my head, repeating on a quiet loop for the hour since he left, until they finally spill from my lips in a whisper of their own.
I sigh and take a long drink of the chamomile tea Jaxl brought.
Tavric's friend hadn't said a word to me during that first and only interaction—not even a perfunctory "how are you doing"—though I sensed no anger in his silence. No emotion at all, in fact. He simply set the tray on the stand and left.
I don't have the energy to dwell on it. Tavric's voice fills the quiet more insistently than anything else, competing only with the revelation of Amara's true identity.
A witch.
I have been friends with a witch for over a year and hadn't suspected a single thing. My father would be deeply, personally disappointed in me.
And he raised me to distrust their kind. Yet this one crossed into a dungeon to pull me out of it.
