Claire's POV

She charged before anyone could blink.

In a split second, her hand swept the table, scattering silver goblets, and snatched a steak knife left near the plates. A guard shouted. Another lunged. Both missed.

Ivy was already on me.

The blade slashed toward my face wildly.

Instinct kicked in.

I twisted, but moved too slow. The sharp edge caught my sleeve and sliced my forearm, opening a hot line under the silk. The jerk wrenched something deep in my belly—a sharp pain that forced me to plant my feet to stay upright.

Damian blurred between us, his lethal speed tearing through the room. He caught Ivy’s wrist with...