But before he could say anything else, Wren was at his back. Her dagger pressed firmly against his throat. His entire body stiffened, and it was far too late for him to grab his own weapon. “Take off his cuffs,” my sister commanded, her gaze staring straight ahead at the tunnel before me. “What the hell is this?” Torrin’s breath was ragged, but he didn’t dare move. The dagger in Wren’s grip remained steady, the sharp point pressing against his throat, forcing him to still beneath her hold. The rebellion’s council had voted; they had agreed to give me what I asked for in exchange for this
...more
Wren isn’t playing today
