(Adrian POV)
The words echoed in my skull like the tolling of funeral bells: Northern bastard. Wolf blood. Not Magnus's son.
I sat frozen on the viewing platform as Captain Thorne's headless corpse was dragged away, his final revelation burning through my mind like acid. Around me, the crowd buzzed with whispered speculation, but their voices sounded distant and muffled, as if I were hearing them through water.
Wolf blood.
My hand instinctively went to my injured shoulder, where Cassius's blade had severed more than just muscle and tendon. The wound throbbed with each heartbeat, a constant reminder of how I had lost control during our duel. How my teeth had lengthened, my strength had surged beyond human limits, my senses had sharpened to inhuman clarity.
