The Lycan King’s Broken Mate
We count that as a victory.
In the children’s room the wet nurse sits in the chair, the book open, murmuring as always. Selin searches for the blanket’s edge—her switch. Kael looks at the window’s streak—only a streak today as well. Nyra moves at the “look at me” sign; the children look back. “Wait,” she says. “One, two, three.” Sleep.
As we leave, Nyra steps beside me. “The Order has hung well on the wall,” she notes softly. “Today the words and the customs said the same thing.”