Althea's head whipped around to Sienna, who stood smugly, her expression far too satisfied for someone who had no way of getting out of here alive.
"Did you do this to him?" Althea asked, her voice dangerous and trembling with fury.
Sienna grinned like the devil in a ball gown. "Of course I did. Who else could have? Mind-control is my specialty, dear sister-in-law." She casually blew on her nails, inspecting them like this was still a celebratory banquet and not a battlefield soaked in blood.
Althea's jaw clenched, blood roaring in her ears. "There's no way you could control him," she spat.
She knew Clyde. She knew how deeply anchored he was. His mind was like a fortress—layered, sealed, reinforced. He wasn't someone who could be swayed, let alone manipulated. He had been her rock during her worst storms. He was always standing firm and solid when even she wavered.
If Sienna had gotten to him, then…
