[Draven].
And I had told her no, that they were annihilated, wiped from existence alongside other ancient races.
She had nodded, accepted it. Or pretended to.
The realization burned now—slow and deep. Meredith had known. She had known all along about the Faes. And yet she had asked me those questions as though she were learning for the first time.
I released a deep breath through my nose, jaw tightening. The sense of betrayal didn't explode—it crept. It crawled under my skin and lodged itself there, heavy and stubborn.
I didn't know what to do with this woman.
Then I saw her hands move. She tugged her dress down, exposing her shoulder.
The motion startled me—not because of the skin, but because my thoughts had been elsewhere, replaying moments I now saw through a different lens.
"The red half-moon mark is completely gone," she said quietly. "Because I can finally wolf out."
