Killian's POV
I ripped the iron out of me and the world tilted for a second, the pain vanished as the wound sealed.
The rod slid from my fingers and wet with my own blood. I spat a curse and ignored the bruise already forming across my ribs.
I wrenched the rod free and spun, throwing it without thinking twice.
Elijah didn’t flinch. He reached out and caught the rod with one hand like it was an offering, not a weapon.
He held it up between us, casual, the corners of his mouth pulled into that lazy smile he always used when he wanted you to underestimate him.
For a second, only a second I watched him. The laugh lines at his eyes were gone, replaced with a hardness that had nothing to do with age.
I’d changed while he wasn’t looking.
“Seeing you in your wolf form without the full
