The gates of the House of Aetherion stood wide open. People watched from the walls in tense silence. No magic filled the air, no shifting, only steel and men stood ready.

Gavriel stepped forward first. He removed his cloak and handed it to Osman without a word. The weight of the sword in his hand felt different now. He could feel every ounce of it, every strain on his muscles. Once, this blade would have been an extension of his Lycan strength.

Now, it was simply steel. And yet, he felt ...