THE WAR COUNCIL
The war room was suffocating with tension. Shadows flickered against stone walls as Victor Kane sat at the head of the long table, his fingers steepled beneath his chin. Across from him, Zane stood rigid, his expression unreadable.
Selina, Owen, and Elira flanked him, their postures tense. The scent of damp earth and burning torches filled the underground chamber.
Victor exhaled dramatically. “So, let me get this straight. You lost my Beta?”
Selina clenched her jaw. “She sacrificed herself so we could escape.”
Victor chuckled—a low, amused sound that sent a chill up her spine. “That does not sound like Lyra.”
Zane’s voice was cold. “Roman was too strong.”
Victor tilted his head. “Roman is strong. But too strong? No.” His lips curved into a smirk. “You weren’t ready.”
