The hall was still heavy with silence, as though the stone held its breath. Liam sat forward on his chair, fists pressed to his knees, fire in his eyes.
Damian stood beside him, arms crossed, his frame rigid with restrained fury.
The villager sat hunched at their side, shock still written across his face. His voice shook as he spoke.
“They… they drank until the boys were dead. Then they laughed.”
Damian’s jaw clenched. “The Ashbanes. No one else could make sport of feeding. Three brothers, born of dark blood. They were said to be stronger than packs, crueler than warlords. When they fed, they drained entire villages. Nothing left but bones and silence.”
Liam slammed a fist against his knee, voice thunderous. “They should have stayed dead. Duskfall has never fallen to its knees, and it
