DRAC'S POV
The storm outside screamed like a living beast, rattling the trees and clawing at the cave mouth with invisible fingers. The air tasted of smoke and iron. I sat on my throne of broken stone, jagged edges digging into my back like thorns, but I didn’t move. The throne wasn’t meant for comfort—it was meant to remind everyone who entered that power is built on pain.
The shadows around me whispered, coiling along the walls like restless snakes.
The beat of wings filled the cavern, and then Volak appeared, black feathers scattering across the floor as he landed. His face was twisted into its usual mask of disgust. Always angry. Always sneering.
I leaned forward with a smile sharp enough to cut.
“What a pleasant surprise,” I spat. “I thought you’d gone hunting for humans. Or mayb
