The high council chamber of Blackmist Keep stood in stone silence, yet tension buzzed louder than thunderclouds. Oak beams arched above, carved with runes from long-forgotten wars, and the scent of ash and old blood lingered like a ghost too stubborn to pass on.
Magnolia stood at the long obsidian table, head high, spine drawn taut like a bowstring. Her hands were folded, but the mark under her glove itched with a pulse she couldn't name. One more word and she might just erupt too soon, too dangerously.
Rhett stood beside her, shoulders square in his black coat, the gold embroidery marking his status as Alpha Lord. Every inch of him exuded calm power but she saw the storm beneath his eyes. The weight of alliance and duty twisted into every word he didn't say aloud.
Ivy tapped her stylus against the table tap, tap, tap and all eyes turned to her.
