If there was a girl inside Odette once who loved a boy, I saw a glimmer of her the moment Ivan Dumont emerged from Gram to face the Council. He stood tall and proud, regal even, a king among us, at least in his own estimation.

"Ivan." Odette's voice cracked, his name a croak from her lips. As she reached out toward him, her disguise slipped a little, enough the horrid, withered, and evil old crone behind the slim veneer of beauty she barely maintained showed ...