Lyander Wolfhart 10      

Liora wasn't allowed to leave the guest house.

The instructions had been clear. She was to remain inside at all times. Meals were brought to her three times a day by different servants—none of whom stayed longer than necessary.

They never spoke beyond a few clipped words, and their eyes always flicked toward the corners of the room, as if checking to see if she'd moved anything out of place.

Henry had told her it was for her own protection. That some in the pack weren't ready to accept a human in their territory. That tensions were still high, and he didn't want any accidents. He'd looked her dead in the eyes as he said it—steady, calm, and unreadable.

But Liora knew better.