The war room doors slammed shut behind Theodas as the guards dragged her away. The echo lingered, heavy as the silence that followed. No one moved. No one breathed. The obsidian table gleamed under the low lights, reflecting the stunned faces of the remaining elders. My mother sat at the far end, hands clasped so tight her knuckles were white. Lyra stood beside her, silver glow faint but steady.
I remained on my feet, Damien’s hand still laced with mine. The bond between us burned like a live wire — warm, unbreakable, feeding me his controlled rage and the quiet pride that made my chest tight. I had just commanded one of the most powerful elders in the Northeast to confess treason in front of the entire Council. The silver voice no longer felt like a wildfire. It felt like a blade I could
