Therion’s boots struck hard against the stone as he entered Eleara’s chambers without knocking. She was lounging on a silk couch, a smirk on her lips as though she’d been waiting for him.

“Therion,” she drawled, swirling wine in her goblet. “What brings you storming in like a beast unchained?”

He didn’t waste time. He crossed the room in three strides, his hand around her throat before she had time to gasp. Her goblet clattered to the floor, crimson spilling across the ...