The conference room buzzed with quiet tension.
Sunlight streamed through the tall glass windows, illuminating the polished table where Zaria’s circle had gathered once again. Each of them carried a different energy, Liora flipping through documents with sharp efficiency, Marcus tapping his pen against a tablet as numbers danced on the screen, Clara scribbling furiously in her notebook, and Enric standing watch with arms folded, his presence heavy as stone.
Zaria stood at the head of the table, her posture tall, her gaze unwavering. She did not need to raise her voice to command the room. Her silence alone carried weight.
Finally, she spoke. “Last night was not an accident. Drevon wanted to test our defenses. He wanted me to fear him.” She paused, her lips curving into a sharp smile. “In
