Rhett’s POVThe council chamber reeked of tension—thick, suffocating, and sharp like iron. I sat at the head of the obsidian table, every pair of eyes darting between me and the man who now knelt in chains before us—Varric. His face was bruised, his lip split open, and his gray cloak was shredded, revealing bloodied skin beneath. Killan had dragged him in without mercy, and I wasn’t in the mood to extend any.Twelve chairs encircled the polished black table. Each seat was occupied. Zev leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, his silver rings catching the light, his stormy gaze locked on Varric. Kade, always calm, sat back with his arms folded, jaw clenched. Azar… he was already seething, fists tight, shoulders coiled with fury.And the others—each a leader in their region, each someone who had known Varric for decades. There was Sylas with his sharp tongue and colder heart, Maelik with his signature amber cloak and calculating eyes, Kaelen, tall and rough-spoken, wh
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