"Yeah... dumb bitch picked the wrong king in a kingdom of wolves."
Selene shot him a sharp look.
Kael just shrugged.
"What? I learned my family values."
Kael yanked Selene by the wrist as a wall of concussive heat rolled over the courtyard.
They dove behind a ruined pillar, breaths shallow, bodies low.
Dust coated the inside of his mouth like ash.
The air felt poisoned with power.
Above them, death danced.
The Duke and General Morien clashed in a hellstorm of steel and spell.
Morien, drenched in blood and sweat, surged forward with his saber, each strike like a falling guillotine.
The Duke met him blade for blade, one hand drawing defensive sigils mid-air while the other carried his sword like it was fate itself.
Runes across both men's armor flared, golden and crimson, clashing with every blow.
Sparks and blood mingled.
It was no longer a duel—it was a collapse of control.
The Duke's voice rang out, hollow and thunderous,
