The council chamber reverberated with silence after selene’s words. Her plea for diplomacy still hung in the air like incense soft, cloying, and easily dismissed in the choking heat of hostility. Luna sat on her obsidian-carved throne at the head of the chamber, her silver eyes narrowed to dangerous slits. The faintest curl of a smirk touched her lips, not of amusement, but of a predator humoring a prey animal that thought it had claws.“Diplomacy,” she repeated, her voice velvet laced with steel. “with callista.” She leaned forward, resting her elbows on the carved arms of the throne. The light from the braziers flickered across the scars on her forearms, trophies from old wars. “Do you think she wants words, little dove? Do you think she wants peace? She doesn’t want crescent vale at the table, she wants it at her feet.”Selene’s hands tightened around the folds of her gown. She stood tall, though her heart was thrumming like a trapped bird. “I know she wants dominance. But if you m
Last Updated : 2025-09-03 Read more