"That's impossible."
For the first time since stepping into the Forbidden Forest, the calm composure that had become Vaelric's greatest weapon fractured.
His gray eyes narrowed as disbelief washed over his face. He stared at Nehum, searching her weathered face for even the slightest indication that she was playing some cruel game.
"Lyara Nyerewyn died nine years ago during the Siege of Ashmere." His voice was steady, yet beneath it lay unmistakable shock. He thought repeating the facts aloud might somehow prove the witch wrong
"She sacrificed herself to save my mother from Ishara's curse. I saw it with my own eyes when I walked through the past."
His gaze hardened.
"I watched her stand before my mother without the slightest hesitation. I watched her take the curse upon herself, knowing it would kill her."
He slowly shook his head. "She is dead. I saw her grave. The entire realm mourned her death."
Silence lingered. The fire crackled softly between them.
