DANTE’S POV
The celebration had not yet died, it had only dulled. The fortress still echoed with the remnants of laughter and wine-heavy voices, but beneath it — beneath the illusion of unity — there was tension. Fear lingers longer than joy. There was no sign of the first elders blood on the courtyard stones anymore. He had been the loudest and most arrogant and now he was reduced to a distant memory. Dead by my hand when he lunged for Selene like a cornered animal.
Some called it justice, others called it necessary. But none called it surprising, it wasn’t surprising that this was how he had ended up. He had long been a menace leading the rest of the elders down the wrong path as they blindly trusted and followed him. I stood at the long war table in the council chamber, staring at the
