The council chamber still hummed with the echoes of debate, the air thick with words spoken and unspoken. Rogues, shifting alliances, and territory disputes had dominated the meeting, but beneath all the politics another current had thrummed—one that only a few noticed, and fewer dared to name aloud.
Lucien’s presence.
He lingered like smoke after fire, his silver-gray eyes sharp with mischief, his smiles too long, his silences too deliberate. Every move of his seemed orchestrated, yet disarmingly casual, as though he thrived in the role of predator while making it appear effortless.
When the elders filed out, murmuring and bowing respectfully to Kael, Lucien stayed behind. He leaned against one of the carved pillars, arms crossed over his chest, his lips curved in that subtle, knowing
