Zeraphine’s POV
The silence stretched between us, thick with unspoken decisions. The fire in the hearth crackled, the only sound filling the space as Draven’s words settled deep into my bones.
We don’t deny anything.
It was bold. Risky. A move that could backfire just as easily as it could tilt the scales in our favor. But he was right. If we let them dictate the narrative, we had already lost.
I exhaled slowly, my fingers pressing into the edge of the desk. My mind raced through possibilities, angles, the different ways we could turn this in our favor.
Draven watched me, waiting. His confidence in me was unshaken, unwavering. It was a strange thing—to be believed in when so much of my life had been built around proving my worth.
Finally, I straightened, rolling my shoulders back.
