The lantern light flickered in the night breeze, casting long, dancing shadows against the stone pillars of the pavilion. The tension that had been a physical struggle between two desperate women shattered instantly at the sound of the deep, booming voice.
Senna released Ashlyn's wrist as if it burned her. Ashlyn stumbled back, clutching her bruised arm, her chest heaving.
They both turned to the entrance of the garden path.
Derek stepped fully into the circle of light. He was not alone. Marissa stood by his side, her hand resting lightly on his arm, her expression one of calm, icy judgment. Behind them, Lily stood like a silent sentinel, her face grim.
The sight of the struck fear into the hearts of the two conspirators.
Senna reacted first. Her survival instinct was faster than a viper's strike. She smoothed her disheveled hair and dropped into a low, trembling curtsy, instantly shedding the skin of the murderer she had almost become and donning the mask of the victim.
