Selene followed Cassandra down a narrow corridor that opened into a circular chamber.
Inside, a round table stood at the center, surrounded by seated members of the faction. But Selene barely registered them—her eyes locked onto the only person that mattered.
Thaddeus Slade.
The Head of the Faction.
He rose slowly. His figure tall and imposing. His Hair streaked with silver. A scar running from his temple down to his jaw.
Selene’s breath caught in her throat as he approached her.
He was older now, rougher around the edges, but his presence hadn’t dimmed. If anything, it had grown more formidable.
The air around him thrummed with power, the kind that coiled around your ribs and made your lungs forget how to work.
He stepped forward, and for the first time in years, she heard his vo
