POV: Thelma

The silver chains burned against my wrists like fire, but the physical pain was nothing compared to the emptiness where Xavier's love used to live.

I sat in the back of the transport wagon, hands bound, watching the forest pass by through barred windows. Five Council Guards surrounded me, their faces hard and unforgiving. They treated me like a monster. Maybe they were right.

"Murderer," one of them muttered under his breath. I didn't respond. What could I say? Elena was dead. Yvonne was dead. Marcus had died weeks ago. The facts painted a damning picture, even if the truth was more complicated.

The wagon jolted over rough...