Elara felt Damian tense beside her, his hand tightening around hers.

“The baby,” Nina said, her voice barely above a whisper. “The one my mother had killed... he’s alive.”

The words hung in the air, seeming to suck the breath from Elara’s lungs. Alive? How could that be possible? She had mourned that child, had borne the devastating grief of his loss for months.

“What are you saying?” Damian asked, his voice tinged with a desperate hope that Elara dared not give in to.

“I overheard her,” Nina explained, her gaze fixed on the ground. “Giving instructions to the assassin, Ghost... she wanted the baby dead, to sever the last...