Silence struck first after azaziel's first outburst.
The kind that didn't just fill the room but choked it — heavy, stifling, and ready to burst at the slightest sound. The words "I came for my daughter" still echoed like poison in Kael's ears, venom that refused to leave.
His fists clenched against the armrest of the chair, the tendons in his hands tightening until his knuckles turned white.
His daughter.
Lucarion stood across the room, composed as ever, the faint curl of a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. His presence alone was oppressive — the dark aura surrounding him hummed against the edges of Kael's own power.
Azaziel broke the silence first, his voice slicing through the tension.
"Hell's damnation—" he muttered under his breath, hands on his head. "Never imagined this."
"Azaziel," Kael growled, but his brother only raised his brows, a rare seriousness dawning on his usually careless face.
Lucarion chuckled — low, amused, dangerous.
