"I watched a Fae-wolf moon goddess, whatever the hell she is, kiss two men and get bitten by them both in the same hour." Maelor slumped into a chair by the fire in Riven's study. "And you're offering me scotch?"
He took the glass and took a long sip.
Riven claimed the armchair opposite Maelor with one ankle on his knee, completely unbothered. "Tiberon doesn't let anyone do anything. There is more to that. A deal under the table."
"A shark judging another shark for swimming, are we?"
"I don't swim. I own the ocean."
Maelor raised an eyebrow, swirling the last golden drop of scotch in his glass before tipping his head back. "Hyran Thornfell called the wards the single greatest failure in his career. We are on borrowed time as it is."
"The clock isn't ticking for us, Maelor. It's ticking for everyone who doesn't know what we've done."
