Chapter 349. That Wasn’t the Question

Night pressed close to the palace, heavy with smoke from the cookfires and the sound of too many frayed tempers.

The new code of conduct had gone out at sunset...Eva’s neat, cruel little document...and the grounds had quieted by force if not by choice. Guards walked double patrols and the Dark Moon wolves held the inner ring, still as statues. Refugees muttered in their tents, their voices kept low by the memory of Adam’s earlier roar.

And Ann didn’t sleep.

She paced the length of the small lounge, then the balcony, then back again, hands clasped behind her so she wouldn’t rub at the aching place between her eyes. The letter from Brad sat in a drawer she refused to open. The edict copies sat signed on the desk. The portal foundation sat in her head like a blueprint she couldn’t stop redrawing.

You know what would help? Maeve asked sweetly. A fight. Clears the sinuses.

“Shut up,” Ann whispered, but her chest agreed. She was wound tight enough to sing.