Kael's POV
The wine was bitter.
A deep red that bit the tongue, sharp and acidic, no matter how expensive the bottle or how old the vintage. It was the same label George always brought up from the cellar, but it no longer tasted like luxury. It tasted like blood. I swallowed it anyway, letting it burn down my throat.
The fire in my chest helped me think.
The surrounding room was dim, cloaked in red lights. I’d replaced all the bulbs because I hated brightness, it felt too exposing.
The windows were shut tight, sealing in the scent of pine smoke from the hearth. Still and silent. I liked silence. Silence didn’t lie. If you listened long enough, it told you things.
Then, the door creaked open.
George stepped in, cautious as always. He smelled like wet grass and tension.
“You called f
