They led me toward the Great Council Chamber. This was where the high demon lords gathered. It's the ancient, primal architects of this realm’s suffering. As the massive doors groaned open, I kept my children close. Kezabel and Vaxen walked beside me, heads held high, their small faces set in masks of regal pride that they shouldn't have even known how to wear yet.
The moment I crossed the threshold, a wave of pure, unadulterated dread crashed over me. It wasn’t just the atmosphere; it was the air itself. It felt heavy, like breathing in liquid lead. I felt cold eyes locking onto me. But it was the sheer pressure of the magic in the room that truly paralyzed me. My wolf, usually a source of fierce protection and snarling defiance, was suddenly whimpering in the back of my mind, curling in
