“Auren.” I try to take a tentative step forward, but a snarl rips from her throat. My eyes rake over every inch of her, assessing. When I take a step, she thrusts out her hand, sending a rope of gluey gold shooting out at me like a whip. But it doesn’t make contact. Instead, it was merely a warning. My lips tip up into a smirk, while her eyes taper in suspicion. Oh, Goldfinch, I see you.
