KAEL

I walked into my office and found my mate holding a letter opener to a woman's throat.

Cora was pinned against the wall. Sera was holding the blade against her skin, her hair wild, a scratch on her neck that was beading blood. Cora's face was streaked with tears, her wrists — still pink with healing scars — raised in front of her like a woman bracing for a blow.

"Kael," Cora gasped. "She attacked me. I came to bring you the medical clearance forms and she—"

"She's lying." Sera didn't ...