Seraphina- The Alpha's Murderer
She limped after them, every step reminding her that she was a prisoner in an enemy’s den.
The study was a war room, its heart dominated by a table strewn with maps and papers. At the far end, a glass case held a gnarled chunk of silver—the famous Moon Goddess’s Blade, or what was left of it after the murder. The air here smelled of blood and candle wax.
Lysander moved to the map, tracing a line with his finger. “This is the temple. Here, the sanctum where the ceremonial knife was kept. The wards—” he tapped a small icon, “—are triple-reinforced. No ordinary thief could have bypassed them.”