~ Zarek Draven The round table was slick with spilled drink and grease, bone scraps scattered like trophies of smaller victories. Firelight leapt along the stone walls, torches crackling as laughter rolled through the chamber…deep, coarse, unrestrained. Bloodfang laughed tonight. I leaned back in my chair, one boot propped against the stone rung beneath the table, watching my council revel. The sound pleased me. Not the laughter itself, but what it meant. Success. Kara raised her goblet, amber liquid sloshing dangerously close to the rim. “To the Moonstone Ground,” she said coolly. “Soon.” Ronan barked out a laugh, slamming his cup against hers. “Soon?” he scoffed. “At this rate, it’s already ours. Did you see their faces?” Across the table, Talon remained half in shadow, eyes glinting as the projected image replayed against the far wall. Ashenhowl’s council chamber…Lucian, Aiden, Rowan and Elder Damian. Serious faces. Careful words. Information will now be restricted. Moveme
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