The storm that had battered the jagged cliffs of the Blackwood coast followed the Vultures back to the city, washing the soot-stained streets in a relentless, freezing downpour. Inside the penthouse of Vane Tower, the floor-to-ceiling glass windows hummed with the vibration of the thunder, offering a blurred, watery panoramic view of the kingdom they had claimed. The interior was quiet, lit only by the low, amber glow of the recessed lights and the crackle of the fireplace.
Elena stood by the glass, her reflection showing a woman who had spent the last twenty-four hours carrying the weight of an empire on her shoulders. The silver vulture collar around her neck felt warm against her skin, a physical anchor that kept her grounded even as the shadows of the city seemed to close in. She had
