Nadia was struck dumb. The woman knew she was Tarben? For God’s sakes, she had washed off every scent she could find. In her surprise and panic, it didn’t even register to Nadia that Esmae might have known by her albinism. “I suggest you speak, girl. What do you want?” A low, warning tone, making Nadia recoil. She took a breath.
“I am Nadia,” she said. Fighting off tears. “I’m from Tarben, yes, but no more. Long before Tarben was formed, my father was still a womanizing bastard, and he stole my mother from her soulmate, then knocked her up. That produced me. My father is the Dane King of Tarben. He kicked myself, my mother, and my one surviving sister out; I guess either he got sick of us or he finally realized that I wasn’t loyal to Tarben.” Nadia’s voice caught. “I will gladly go if you wish it; I just thought I’d try my luck with Dawnshire since, you know . . . I didn’t think I would be recognized, and I wanted to start over new. I haven’t ever known what it’s like to be included in a pack since my brother and I were always outcast and ignored, thanks to my mother’s reputation." Nadia hadn’t expected such open honesty from herself. The past couple weeks were starting to catch up with her. No matter how much she’d always wished to burn Tarben down, it’d been embarrassing and hurtful to suddenly, in front of everyone, be banished. She hated herself for breaking down so easily, but the truth was, she was grieving and worn. A tear fell from her cheek as she ducked her head.

“She tied you to a kitchen chair; she broke your throne and she cut your hair!”