Miri's Pov
The room still smelled like smoke and iron. Rayne's blood hadn't even dried on the stone floor before the counselor's voice slithered through the shadows. His tone wasn't broken or frightened—no, it was calm, too calm, the kind of calm that came before a storm you couldn't run from.
"You think this changes anything?" he sneered, his gaze darting between me, Riven, and Caius. "You mock my efforts. You spit on the future I offered you. And for what? For a mate who will always be an hindrance to your true potential?"
The fire in his eyes wasn't just anger—it was betrayal, obsession. His clothes, once neat and orderly, hung crooked around him, torn in places. I could see veins of black magic pulsing under his skin like serpents, crawling from his wrists up his arms, feeding into his fingertips.
