Evelyn
“Would you please go get the witch?” Lucas asks Minister Coltain as we descend from the carriage.
A sprawling camp extends in all directions, tents lined up as far as I can see, interspersed with a few training mats and shack-like structures. Lucas’ hand rests gently at my back, though I am under no illusion that he wouldn’t grip me painfully hard if I tried to take off.
Minister Coltain scoffs at Lucas. “Me? She’s your witch for your mate. You fetch her.”
“I would,” Lucas says, glaring at the minister, “but I don’t trust you not to threaten Evelyn’s life if I leave you alone with her. This is my camp, and I can turn you in to the Lycan King the second you’re no longer useful to me.”
Minister Coltain glares back, then stomps off.
“Thank you!” Lucas calls after him. “We’ll meet
