CHAPTER 192
Alistair Stavrus.
Ezekiel's throat went dry. His uncle, the former king of the Moon Empire.
The name echoed in his mind like a ghost pulled from the grave. It didn't make sense. It couldn't. Alistair shouldn't exist anymore, not in flesh and blood. His story ended centuries ago, sealed in the Empire's history books and whispered as a tragedy among the old bloodlines.
The former king who defied everyone, who loved a hybrid.
The one who died with her when the world turned against them.
His hands trembled slightly. He struggled to look away from the face before him—ageless by time, except his hair had grown long past his shoulders behind him. The same piercing eyes as he saw in pictures of him, and he even had Alistair's portrait in the gallery room in his mansion. The same cold, commanding presence that once ruled the Moon Empire before his downfall.
