Zade's Pov

The candlelight burned low in my office, filling the air with the heavy scent of wax and smoke. The night pressed against the tall windows, thick and black, as if the world itself had cloaked its face from the things we were about to say. Shadows clung to every corner, curling like claws, restless, hungry. It was the perfect setting for the work at hand.

Draven stood at the long oak table, his hands braced against the scarred surface, his eyes sharp and cold. He had the ...