Lorraine's POV
We remained on that worn tree stump outside the hideout, the night air curling around us like a living thing. The forest whispered with the sounds of crickets and the distant rush of wind through the leaves. The queen's gaze was fixed on the dark horizon, but her voice was steady, almost measured, as she turned to me.
"Do you know how I found out what I was? How I found out I was a ghosthound?" she asked.
I shook my head slowly. The word itself, ghosthound, still felt like something out of a nightmare, something I wasn't entirely sure I wanted to understand. But the way she asked, with a strange mixture of pride and heaviness, made me lean in, listening.
