/-Zara-/

Draven stood in the doorway.

He looked terrible—pale, gaunt, leaning heavily on a wooden cane. The poison had taken a visible toll. But his golden eyes were clear and blazing with determination.

He llimped forward, each step clearly an effort. Pack members moved aside to let him pass. Even Aldric stepped back slightly, acknowledging the Alpha's presence.

Draven didn't stop until he was standing directly before the High Inquisitor. When he spoke, his voice was rough but carried ...