Three figures sat around a round table draped in red velvet. The air inside the room was heavier than the hall—thick, almost suffocating.
Azhriel's eyes flicked across the room once, taking in every detail.
In the middle sat Kerip, broad-shouldered and calm, his light red eyes glowing faintly beneath the chandelier's light.
His slicked-back hair and cold expression made him look composed, but Azhriel could see it—the subtle twitch in his fingers, the faint trace of dark energy leaking from his skin.
He was very annoyed right now.
On either side of him sat the other two, Oluk and Ensuv.
Their faces were duller, their gazes restless, but Azhriel knew better. They weren't ordinary men. All three of them were demons in disguise.
And the moment he stepped into that room, he felt it.
