Lulu

Niobe’s calm attitude felt like sandpaper scraping against my skin. I stood there, cradling my baby who had just drifted off, while the anger I’d buried for days began to simmer back to the surface.

Every time I looked at her face, the memory of that ravine came rushing back.

The searing heat of magic that nearly killed me, and how she’d almost sacrificed all of us for her own mission.

“Explain,” I pressed, my voice low and sharp. “No riddles, Niobe. I’m not in the mood for ...