Emerald's brow knit together. "A stone? What kind of stone could be that important?"
Octavian finally met her gaze. His face was pale, and he spoke so softly that it was almost a whisper. "One that goes far back… into the old wolf legacy."
Emerald stared down at Octavian, her brows pulled together. "The old wolf legacy?" she echoed. "What are you talking about?"
He winced, his head jerking as he tried to lift it. "A stone," he murmured again. "Quince kept it close. Always. He said it had meaning… said it couldn't fall into the wrong hands."
Emerald turned slowly toward Darius.
The look on his face told her everything.
His face had turned pale, and his lips were tightly pressed together. He was staring at Octavian like the man had just confessed to digging up a god's grave. Whatever this stone was, it wasn't just a trinket.
"Uncle?" she said cautiously. "What is it?"
No response.
"Uncle, do you know what he's talking about?"
