Henry’s POV
The moment the last guard fell beneath Elijah’s silent blade and Liam’s silver-edged dagger, the chamber fell into an unnatural hush. I pressed a hand to my chest, lungs heaving, as I took in the scene, the bodies of Sebastian’s minions strewn across the stone floor, torches guttering in the sudden lack of movement. My brothers gathered at the edge of the rune circle, their faces pale under the torchlight.
Leila lay at the center, bound to the pillar by silk and runes that glowed a sickly green. My heart clenched at the sight of her pale skin and limp form. Without hesitation, I strode forward, every instinct screaming to free her.
“Elijah, the runes!” I called, voice tight. He knelt beside the pillar, pulling out a small pouch of dusty gray powder, the Moonwood ash the Seer
