Draven’s POV
The council chamber was suffocating.
Heat clung to my skin like a fever. The torches lining the cold stone walls spat out low, flickering flames, their glow casting shadows that danced like ghosts across the faded banners of the hall. The sharp scent of burning cedar curled through the air, mingling with the mustiness of old parchment and the staleness of too many bodies in one closed space.
But it wasn’t the scent or the heat that clawed at me, it was the voices. Raspy. Arrogant. Centuries-old wolves, witches, and vampires locked in a chorus of bickering and blame. Their words were knives, scraping against my nerves, but I didn’t let them pierce me.
I wasn’t listening.
Not really.
My eyes were on Kael.
He sat at the head table, arms folded tight across his chest, jaw s
