The obsidian table groaned under Reign's grip. Cracks spiderwebbed outward as the image of the Ascendancy's horned commander burned into his retinas. The sheer audacity of a third power carving its mark over New York's corpse, after vampires and the many monsters and bandits had already bled it dry, ignited a cold fury in his veins.
"Three powers," Reign stated, his voice unnervingly calm despite the pressure radiating from him. "Vampires holding the remains of your base, Amelia. This 'Ascendancy' carving their spire into Central Park. And a dragon playing kingmaker in the ruins." He released the table, leaving deep impressions of his fingers. "And where does that leave us?"
