The silence that followed was deafening, broken only by the subtle hum of dragon magic that still filled the air from Iskra's contact with Callum.
Each of the four mates processed this revelation in their own way—Marcus with cold calculation, Kai with territorial instincts, and Samantha with a fury that made her appear almost luminescent in the chamber's light.
Callum stood frozen between his past and his present, torn between the ancient bonds of his training and the newer, deeper connections he'd forged with his mates.
His silence was perhaps more damning than any explanation could have been.
Iskra seemed to relish the chaos she'd created, her violet eyes moving between the four faces with the satisfaction of someone who had successfully detonated an emotional explosive device.
She finally removed her hand from Callum's chest, but the gesture was slow, deliberate, possessive.
