Chapter 18

• Zeva’s POV
• The day Lorene arrived, the packhouse felt smaller, more suffocating, as though her presence bent the walls closer. Even the northern sun seemed to hesitate at the windows, casting cold, long shadows over the stone floors. I tried to focus on my routine, on training, on anything to keep my mind from spiraling, but Lorene was everywhere.
• She had a way of moving that demanded attention without demanding it, and a voice soft enough to seem innocent. Her compliments were delicate, almost casual, yet there was an edge in them, like a razor hidden beneath silk.