The call came in the middle of the night. It carried Soren's frantic voice, and resulted in a sleepless night for Sienna and Elias. The seaside air was still damp and freezing when they returned to their home so early in the morning.
Sienna was still muttering something about resurrecting Paris and frying his bones when they stepped into the house. She sounded as cranky as the sea on a bad day. Elias, ever the stoic, only raised an eyebrow, and carried her luggage inside.
The atmosphere in her cottage was thick enough to slice with a butter knife. All the falcon relatives had crammed into the living room. They were gathered around a wooden box sitting on the table like it was a ticking bomb.
