Third person's POV
As soon as he left, she went to work.
She started with his old journals, the ones she'd once promised not to touch. The lock was old, the pages older. Most of it was coded, scribbled in a mix of symbols and phrases only a trained mind would decipher. But in the back of one, she found a drawing. A crest.
A black wolf devouring the moon.
She froze.
The same crest that had been branded into the cloak of the man who'd threatened Nathaniel.
Beside it, written in small, hastily inked words:
"Forgive me, mother."
The air left her lungs.
Who was Nathaniel?
She moved to his hidden drawer, the one beneath his weapons rack. A loose plank gave way to a bundle of old scrolls and documents, some torn, some sealed in wax.
She picked the most worn piece first. It looked like an initiation agreement, his name scrawled beside a blood-stained oath. A secret brotherhood. Not just any group of rogues… but a group Nathaniel once led.
Camila's stomach twisted.
