KYLIAN
I held the dagger used to stab Cyrenia in my hand, studying the engravings on the handle. I knew exactly who it belonged to. I took a slow breath, knowing what had to be done. It had been nearly a week, and I hadn’t done anything yet for fear that it’d only make things worse.
Cyrenia hadn’t woken up, though. I couldn’t stand the thought of standing by, doing nothing for any longer.
I wrapped the dagger up in a silk cloth and put it in my backpack, knowing it’d be useful later. I walked through the pack house, barely acknowledging anyone on my way. I pushed open my brother’s office and stared at him sipping a whiskey at his desk.
“It’s a little early to be drinking, don’t you think?” I shut the door behind me. If I was right, eventually the entire pack would know. If I was wrong
