“I have ruled these lands for centuries,” he says.
His voice carries easily through the night air.
“In all those years I have heard the stories.”
Another slow step.
“The warnings.”
His golden eyes remain locked on me.
“The name whispered by witches and kings alike.”
He stops in front of me again.
“Azrael.”
The name feels heavier when he says it.
The wolves shift again in the shadows.
Theron continues.
“The wielder of black magic.”
His voice lowers slightly.
“The man who mastered the forbidden art that even witches fear.”
Silas’ posture tightens behind us.
Theron’s gaze sharpens.
“The one who sold his soul to darkness in exchange for power.”
The clearing grows still.
“The Shadow King.”
Ace’s voice cuts through the silence.
“If this is leading somewhere, Alpha, get to it
