Nyx
"The girl is practically defenseless anyway," Ysara said with that infuriating, perfectly composed smile of hers, the kind that could cut glass while pretending to be benevolent. "So naturally she requires extra protection."
I ignored her.
Mostly because if I allowed myself to respond to every single insult, veiled threat, or casual cruelty thrown my way in this academy, I would never have time to eat, sleep, breathe, or maintain what little sanity I had left. The words still stung, though, like salt pressed into an open wound I was trying very hard to pretend didn't exist.
Still…
I wasn't exactly thrilled about the Sentinel situation.
Everyone else was getting one.
One.
A perfectly reasonable, manageable number.
Meanwhile, somehow, I was leaving with two. Double the armed shadows. Double the watchful eyes. Double the silent judgment following my every step.
Why?
