Fire roared against the high tower walls, its glow staining Aziel’s blade a molten gold as the final echoes of combat faded. Lyra’s chest rose and fell in ragged breaths beside him, her eyes fixed on the bleeding traitor collapsing against the shattered stone railing. The courtyard below still burned with battle cries, but here on this wind-lashed balcony, it felt as though the world had narrowed to only three people: Alpha, Luna, and the devil who had poisoned both their lives.“You’ve lost,” Lyra hissed, voice low, shaking with fury and revelation. She stepped forward, blade dripping, shadows clinging to her like a second skin. “You killed my father. Not Aziel’s. Not his blood. Yours.” Her voice cracked on the last word, but she didn’t look away.The traitor laughed, wet and uneven, blood bubbling at his lips. “Poor little Luna,” he tau
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