Circe's hands trembled around the stack of papers she held. She asked Ragnar for proof of everything he was saying, not because she believed he was lying to her, but because she needed to see the truth for herself. For years she had listened blindly to every word her father fed her, never once questioning him. And look at where that unthinking obedience had led her.
But now, as Circe read the written documentation detailing everything that was done to Iliana Tavish by those soldiers, she wished that she had never asked to see proof.
The accounts were brutal and grotesque.
How could anyone possibly justify doing such things to another person, vampire or not? It was nauseating. No one deserved this. Not even an enemy.
She swallowed hard as her stomach rolled. She had seen gore before and was no stranger to it. But this was different. This was cold-blooded, and deliberate. It took every shred of her strength not to vomit the dinner she ate earlier.
