The absolute silence in the Great Hall was so profound that the only sound was the violent, crackling hiss of the glacial torches lining the obsidian walls.
Every eye in the room was locked onto the rusted, barnacle-encrusted iron box resting on the pristine marble floor. It looked entirely out of place in the majestic, immaculate Winter Citadel—a piece of ocean debris dragged from the lightless depths of the world. Yet, it radiated an ancient, suffocating pressure that made the inner beasts of every Lycan in the hall whine in instinctual discomfort.
Elara stood frozen in front of her throne, her breath catching in her throat.
The silver magic in her veins, which had been so perfectly calm and harmonized with Valerius’s aura just moments before, was now thrashing wildly against her s
