EMBER’S POV
I straighten up. The fatigue burns off into pure, invigorating adrenaline, relief flooding into my system like air. So much air I’d been denied. I turn back to the guards waiting a few steps away.
“I want Lady Hale’s rooms searched,” I say, my voice dead steady. “Marjorie isn’t the only one in this house who knows her herbs or walks through that garden. Check for traces of foxglove or mud on her shoes. Pull up the floorboards, go through her papers, her books. Everything. I want it gutted.”
The guard standing behind Daxon clears his throat, shifting his weight.
“With respect, my alpha…” He looks at me, his tone sliding into something dangerously condescending. “Lady Hale is a Volkov. Are you sure, Miss Ember, that you know what you’re asking us to do?”
A low growl rips out
