For one breath, Lucian could not even form a thought clearly. Everything inside him went still and then rushed at once, colliding too quickly to become anything useful. His fingers tightened around the folder until the edges bent. His mouth parted slightly before he forced it shut. The coldness in Liam's voice made it worse, because there was no drama in it, no cruelty for the sake of performance. He stated the secret plainly, almost clinically, as though describing a weather report.
'How?' Lucian thought.
That was the first real shape that formed.
'How does he know that?'
