Michael's pov

There was a thick fog hanging from the rafters, and the hall smelled strongly of iron and smoke. The rogues I had gathered were far above the torches that burned along the Stoni wall.

They stood alertly in an uncultured circle, looking at me and the guards stationed at the entrance.

The dagger that Maya had brought to me was on the table behind me, shimmering in a deadly silence of condemnation.

It had been put in Matilda's bed by someone here. One of them had ...