A collective gasp echoes across the tavern. I whip my head up, expecting to find that the shifters have started killing the human men who confronted them. But instead, I find something worse. They’re all staring at me. Yanking a hand up, I reach for the hood of my cloak. Terror washes through me like ice when I don’t find it. It was knocked down when I hit the ground, and now, my head is fully visible.
