The name echoed through the chamber.
Azrath.
The Sixth Ancient.
The first shadow.
The being whose existence had been erased from every history book.
Aria stared at him.
The resemblance was impossible to ignore.
The silver eyes.
The ancient power.
The strange feeling that part of her already knew him.
But she refused to accept it.
“You are not my father.”
Azrath smiled.
“Not the father who raised you.”
His voice was calm.
“But the father whose blood flows through your veins.”
Aria's hands curled into fists.
“My father was Azael.”
A shadow crossed Azrath's face.
“Azael was the man who protected you.”
“Then you knew him.”
“I created the bloodline he carried.”
The chamber became silent.
Elias stepped forward.
“You were never supposed to awaken.”
Azrath looked at him.
