Lord Atticus's face contorted in a mix of shock and disbelief as he once again heard the report echoing from the hooded spy. The more he learned about Altair Blackwood, the more surreal—even frightening—he became. None of it made any sense. He'd never heard of a Third Circle capable of slaughtering Fifth Circles like cattle. And like cattle, he did.
All the spies he'd sent to monitor and report Altair Blackwood were dead. Their bodies were torn into pieces and left for the forest beast to peek at.
The report was like a cold drip of ice drowsing his veins.
Keiran, who stood beside him, was beside himself, the usual smile no longer present. Not so much blinded by lust to grasp the resources they'd just lost in a single night.
