-Ronan Hale:
I didn't trust him.
Not one damn bit.
Orin lay in that bed, looking half-dead, but I'd seen enough in my life to know better. The worst threats always came looking like victims.
Elara wouldn't hear it. She was too caught up in the fact that she had her brother back. Lucien wasn't much better—he at least seemed wary, but I could tell he didn't want to shatter whatever fragile happiness Elara was feeling right now.
But me? I didn't give a damn about feelings when it comes to protecting her, I'd rather have an angry Elara than a dead one.
I leaned against the far wall, arms crossed over my chest, watching Lucien and Elara fuss over Orin's unconscious body like he was some poor, lost soul in need of rescuing.
Idiots.
"He's not staying," I said flatly.
Elara's head snapped toward me. "What?"
"You heard me." I nodded toward the bed. "We don't know what happened to him. We don't know what he's been through. You don't know who he is anymore."
