Selene's POV

The feather sat in my palm like a question.

It was long. Longer than any bird's feather I had ever seen. It was silver, but not the silver of moonlight or the silver of my own scars. It was a colder silver. A harder silver. The kind that did not reflect light so much as refuse it.

And it was warm.

I closed my fingers around it.

"Where did you find this?"

The boy swallowed.

"In your hand, Your Majesty. When we pulled you out of the snow. Your fingers were wrapped around it so tight we had to pry them open."

I looked at the feather again....