Selene Ashenvale lounged on the carved settee—the one Lyra's mother had treasured most—a moonstone collar glittering at her throat. Fenris had given it to Lyra on her twentieth naming day as a token of their intended bond. He had said its radiance was worthy of no one but her.
At the creak of the door, Selene slowly lifted her gaze. Undisguised triumph spread across her delicate features as her fingertips played with the moonstones. Her voice dripped with honeyed sweetness laced with poison. "Oh, you're back, Lyra? Look—Fenris said this collar suits me better, so he gave it to me. You don't mind, do you?"
Lyra's gaze fell on the collar. A fang drove straight through her chest.
She drew a deep breath, forcing down the surge of emotion. Her voice came out cold as frost. "It belongs to him. He can give it to whoever he wishes. It has nothing to do with me."