Chapter 59

Third Person's POV

The Shadowscourge wolves were seething.

Ewan's face had gone the color of iron, his pulse beating visibly in his temple.

Valerius only laughed softly, curling an arm around Cerys's waist. His voice came out smooth as aged whiskey, touched with dangerous amusement. "Apologies, elders. My Cerys tends to bite when cornered. No real malice in her-just mischief."

Then he turned,