ADRIAN'S P.O.V.
The room was suffocatingly silent as I continued. The flickering firelight played over their faces, painting shadows of disbelief, horror and sadness. I drew a deep breath, my tone deliberately even, though the memory of that night clawed at my chest like it was fresh.
"I was blinded by rage," I began, my voice low and deliberate. "Rage at Margaret's words, rage at the witches for what they had done to me in the past, and rage at myself for the scars I carried that still ached centuries later. I didn't think—I acted. My coven and I descended on the witches' sanctuary with one goal: annihilation."
Lucian leaned forward slightly, his unseeing eyes fixed on me. It was unnerving how he could focus so intensely despite his blindness. "You didn't hold back, did you?" he asked, his tone dry but his face taut with understanding.
