Riley's POV
The cold air hit my face when I burst out of the guest tent.
I couldn't run. Not really. My leg wouldn't let me. It buckled on the first step, pain shooting white-hot up my thigh, but I didn't care.
I limped blindly, fast and furious through the dark between tents,my boots slipped on frost-slick grass, my breath coming in ragged, ugly gasps that I didn't want to make.
He lied.
Kael lied.
The bastard lied.
The words looped in my head, louder than my heartbeat, louder than the wind clawing through the trees.
He knew
He'd known for weeks—maybe longer—and he'd let me keep asking. Let me keep hoping. Let me keep clinging to the stupid, fragile dream that my mother might still be out there. Alive. Waiting. That I could find her. Save her. Hold her one more time and ask why she left me in that shitty apartment with nothing but a locket and a note I never understood.
He'd known she was dead.
Burned.
Murdered.
By his Father.
And he hadn't told me.
