The council chamber was louder than it had been in months.

Lyla stood at the head of the long oak table, her silver gaze burning beneath the dim flicker of torchlight. The tension in the room was sharp and cold like the air before a storm.

Rowan sat stiffly at her left, his gaze hard beneath his dark brow. Asha sat beside him, her arms crossed over her chest, her dark gaze narrowed toward the center of the table.

Vaughn leaned back in his seat at the opposite side of the table, his mouth ...