Kael had always thought the Council chambers were cold.
Now he knew they were dead.
The moment Avery vanished in the light, the air had gone still — no voices, no motion, no trace of warmth. Only the faint residue of power where she’d stood, flickering like smoke caught between worlds.
He reached for it instinctively, but the moment his fingers brushed the space, the wards flared.
A shockwave slammed him backward into the marble steps.
“Contain him,” Soreth ordered.
Kael forced himself up, scythe flaring back into existence with a low snarl of energy. The nearest reaper lunged; Kael caught the strike, twisted, and sent the attacker sprawling in a burst of shadowlight. Another came from behind — he ducked, pivoted, disarmed them in a single fluid motion.
He didn’t want to fight them.
