ARLO
The iron shackles bit into my wrists, but I felt no pain. The weight of the metal, the humiliation of being dragged through the streets of Aziel's pack like a common criminal—it was all beneath me. I had been careful, meticulous even. But in the end, it hadn't been enough. They had caught me. They had humiliated me.
But even now, as I stood in this wretched courtroom, surrounded by those who once bowed in deference to me, I refused to show weakness. My face was a mask of cold indifference, my eyes hard and unyielding. The fool Aziel sat there, his expression as stony as mine. But I could see it—the slight tremor in his hands, the tightening of his jaw. He was close to breaking, and that knowledge gave me a sick sense of satisfaction. He was supposed to be the strongest of us all, ye
