Draven.
"Go to her first, Draven."
Rhovan's voice again—calm, unwavering, as if this was some trivial thing, like shifting forms or giving a simple order.
"You wouldn't lose your title by explaining yourself to her."
I stiffened. "Not happening."
"Why? Because of your ego?" Rhovan countered, his voice tightening just slightly. "Because she's supposed to come crawling to you?"
"Because I'm not the one who lied," I hissed internally, grinding my teeth as I cut into the edge of my muffin, not bothering to eat it.
"No," Rhovan said, "but you are the one who betrayed first."
That hit a nerve.
"Excuse me?"
"You heard me," Rhovan said with a sigh. "You handed her over to Wanda. You stood there and watched her get humiliated, mocked, beaten. You were silent when she looked to you for help. You allowed it to happen—and now you're angry she hid her wolf?"
"That's not the same," I argued, jaw tight.
