(Sean's Perspective)
"I know we hurt her," Ian states flatly. The closed leadership discussion in the hotel conference room switches topic abruptly from provisioning our Desert pack refugees spread out across Ciudad d'Arena to provisioning a strike force capable of driving the Rényú queen out—driving her back—again.
I can almost hear the clicks and whirls of Strategos embedded in his words. "Muirgen's ahead of us though. Her army is vaster than even our over-inflated estimates. Regardless of whether she's lost the advantage of the Linden bargain with Silas' death, she will be back—soon—to take what she wanted. Desert pack and Ciudad d'Arena need to be prepared."
What Muirgen wanted was Sandy, and by default, her talisman and those blasted pearled Fae rings. My stomach lurches violently and my wolf half stirs, pacing watchfully, hackles raised and fangs bared.
