Damon's POV

The great hall was filled with the scent of damp earth and cooled smoke. Scorch marks still marred the planks, and the long table bore gouges from blades used to forge plans and grief. I sat at the head, but the space on my left...Aria's spot...felt heavier than a boulder. Each time someone set a cup nearby, my hands clenched tighter.

Elder Callen spoke first, his dry voice carrying the weight of seasons. With thin, papery skin at his temples and a stubborn jaw, he appeared ...