The cells reeked of damp stone and scorched silver, the sharp tang of burned flesh clinging to the air. She sat straight-backed, shoulders square, posture drilled into muscle memory. Soldier to the end. Chin lifted. Eyes sharp.
Defiance, not fear.
Lucian stood at the head of the cell, expression unreadable, blue eyes cold enough to cut. Talia stood beside him, close enough that his presence anchored her without a word. Kaela paced inside her chest, restless and furious.
Casius flanked Alina. Dorian stood with Amalia near the wall. Elder Neris watched from the shadows, hawk-eyed and silent. In the doorway, the old King observed everything, ice-blue gaze heavy with things he would never say aloud.
Lucian broke the silence.
“You were one of my best,” he said evenly. “You trained beside m
