The atmosphere within the ruined cathedral was no longer one of grief, but of a volatile, vibrating tension. The air between the three figures felt like a bowstring stretched to the point of snapping.
Lucien stood as a wall of scorched black iron, his amber eyes burning with a desperate, protective hunger. Kaelen stood as a pillar of moonlight, his silver blade a silent threat. And between them, Gwen—the Sun Queen who had bled her light dry—stood like a ghost of her former self.
The clash between the two Alphas was averted not by mercy, but by a sudden, sickening tremor that shook the very foundations of the Blackfang Stronghold.
A hollow, unnatural howl echoed from the bowels of the earth, followed by a surge of violet energy that pulsed through the stone floors. The embers of Sienna's fire suddenly turned black, swirling into a miniature vortex before vanishing.
