The scrolls still lay across the war table, glowing faintly under the low torchlight, but the tension in the room had shifted.
It wasn't Kael's looming silence or Drekken's barely-restrained growl vibrating through the floorboards.
It was the sharp, amused look Vireya shot across the room as she leaned back in her chair and side-eyed Iska.
"So..." she drawled, casually spinning a knife she'd stolen from Kael's desk, "how long you and the Beta been sneaking off for moonlight knife fights and hot-blooded hate-s*x?"
Kael stiffened.
Iska choked on her tea.
"What the hell, Flameborn?"
Vireya smirked. "Don't 'Flameborn' me like you're not blushing right now."
"I'm not blushing." Iska threw the scroll she was holding dramatically onto the table. "This is witch exhaustion. It's very real.
