"Filthy humans?"
Lugh raised an eyebrow. It had been a while since he'd heard someone speak with that kind of venom.
A moment later, his suspicions were confirmed.
Her body quivered. Strings of saliva clung to her lips as her teeth elongated into short, predatory fangs.
Nails blackened and stretched into claws. Muscle and bone shifted grotesquely beneath her skin.
From behind her ears, two canine-like appendages unfurled. From her rump, a long bushy tail.
No wonder.
Lugh's gaze sharpened. What stood before him now was unmistakably a beastkin—one of the shifter species.
Their humanoid appearances were never cloaked by illusion, but masked by their natural shape-shifting.
Wait… a beastkin?
His mind reeled. What was someone like that doing here? She'd arrived with the assassins, which meant... the implications were definitely not good.
Beastkin were rare this deep into human territory. Seeing one here meant strings were being pulled—deep, old ones.
