The door slammed shut with a deafening thud as Marcus disappeared into the shadows, leaving a suffocating silence in his wake. The only sound that remained was the crackling of the fire in the hearth, but it felt like the heat had drained from the room, leaving nothing but cold dread behind.
Kael stood still, his chest heaving with barely contained fury, his grip white-knuckled around the hilt of his blade. Lyra could feel the tension radiating from him, could see the storm raging behind his eyes as he stared at the door Marcus had just vanished through.
"Kael," Lyra whispered, her voice trembling as she placed a hand on his arm.
For a moment, Kael didn't move. His muscles were still taut, his jaw clenched so tight that Lyra was sure he'd break something if he didn't relax. His entire body seemed coiled for a fight that had already slipped from his grasp.
"Kael," she repeated, more urgently this time.
