Elara Wynn

Ronan gave a thin smile. “Do you remember what you said last time? You said you’d never trust me again. But the truth is, we’re the same. Both good liars. And because of that, I don’t trust you either.”

My blood boiled. “Then what do you want in exchange for her freedom?”

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he handed me something—a small recording pen—placing it into my palm.

“You’ll see later. Depending on your performance. Whether Coco lives or dies is up ...