Troy
I burst through the door, not caring that several unfamiliar people were crowded at the entrance of the stuffy, windowless room in Alpha Una’s palace. The door slammed into at least three of those people, who scowled and murmured words of disdain as I pushed through the crowd, shoving carelessly at the bodies who refused to make way.
Maeve was seated on a bench against the wall, beads of sweat rolling down her temples as she cradled her arms against her stomach.
“What’s wrong with her? Why are all of these people here?” I said hastily, nearly knocking a man who was refusing to move out of my way to the ground as I fell to my knees in front of Maeve, taking one of her hands in my own. “Hey,” I said softly, reaching up to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear. Her skin was hot to the touch. Feverish.
