"WHAT?" Mailah pressed, her heart hammering.
Lucson opened his mouth, then closed it. His jaw worked as if words were physically difficult to form. The fear in his eyes warred with something else—disbelief, maybe, or denial.
"I need to make sure," he finally said, his voice tight. "Because if it's who I think it is, it's impossible. She shouldn't be able to cross over. The wards, the exile conditions—"
"Who?" Mailah demanded, grabbing his arm. "Lucson, who do you think has Grayson?"
"I can't—" He pulled away, running a hand through his hair in a gesture of agitation she thought she would never see from him. "I need to confirm before I say anything. Because if I'm wrong, we're chasing shadows. And if I'm right..."
He trailed off, the unspoken implication hanging heavy between them.
"Can we get him back?" Mailah asked, her voice barely above a whisper. "If it's who you think it is—can we get Grayson back?"
