Cain rode out at dawn with a small escort, toward the wavering pack, exactly as the leaked word had promised. Bait on a road, in the open, the true king exposed the moment Roan had been building his whole exile toward.
I did not ride with him. That was part of it. A woman too in love to keep her king safe would send him out and stay behind chewing her heart out with worry that was the Wren Roan was certain of, and I gave her to him, played her to the hollow, let his spies carry back exactly the picture he needed. The Luna pacing the walls. The Luna afraid.
What his spies didn't carry back was where I actually was.
Because I'd been in the rogue dark for two days already, ahead of Cain's ride, moving through the eastern wilderness the way I'd once moved through Crescent Hollow's servant p
