The throne room fell into complete silence.
No one moved.
No one breathed.
The Enemy King stood before the ancient obsidian throne, one hand resting on the edge of his hood.
For years, his face had been nothing more than a rumor.
A ghost hidden beneath shadows.
A king no one had truly seen.
Kaelira stood frozen, her heart pounding so hard it hurt.
Ronan stepped closer to her, his chained hands tightening into fists.
The Enemy King looked at them both.
Then, slowly…
He lowered his hood.
At first, Kaelira couldn’t understand what she was seeing.
He wasn’t a monster.
He wasn’t disfigured.
He wasn’t even old.
His face was handsome, though worn by centuries of grief.
Long silver hair rested over his shoulders.
His eyes were the same impossible silver as hers.
There was pain i
