"You all took your sweet time, didn't you?" Geralt said, a frown etching deep lines on his weathered face. The room was dimly lit, shadows dancing from the flickering demonic runes on the walls, the air thick with the scent of sulfur and tension.
"Don't blame it on me, Dad. Blame it on Draken," Nathan said, pointing at Draken innocently. His tone was light, almost teasing, but his eyes gleamed with a mischievous glint, the kind that hid darker intentions in this twisted alliance.
