A Luna for the Lycan King
He motioned to the drangel next to him.
Toril’s gaze softened for a second, something flickering behind the blade of her cheekbones. I heard a small shriek and looked to see Eira had yanked her hand free from Squall’s grip and ran to Toril’s side, head bowed, arms wrapped around herself. It hurt to watch, the way she folded herself up, small and tight, trying to vanish into the air.
Squall’s face collapsed in on itself, fury giving way to heartbreak. “Eira,” he said, voice so gentle it might have been a whisper. “You don’t have to do this. I will fight for you.”
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