Elijah
Mayah stepped forward and faced off with Lawrence Frost. I couldn’t help but wonder how many times they had done this. Had they only met in Westbane, or did it go back further than that? In how many lifetimes had they been enemies? Mayah’s hair was floating around her head in a wild and untamable mane of curls, her back was ramrod straight and in one hand she held the hairpin.
It was such an ugly, simple thing, it seemed impossible that it had caused so much pain and chaos.
She rubbed her thumb over it as she stared at Frost.
He sneered at her. “You can’t use that thing on me, Mayah. Now why don’t you be a good girl, and hand it over?” He held out his hand expectantly.
He really must have lost his mind. Mayah’s head tipped just slightly as she studied him.
I glanced aside at t
