The council bell tolled, Liora followed the sound, her heart racing in her ears, her steps quick as if she could outrun fear itself.

As she entered the great hall, tension already suffocated the air. Elders sat in their carved chairs, shoulders stiff, lips pursed in disapproval.

Warriors lined the walls, fists clenched at their weapons, although no swords were drawn. In the center, under the weight of some dozen pairs of eyes, Draven stood—his golden eyes blazing like a caged beast's.

...