"Huu… haa…"
Dustan sat rigidly in his chair, his fingers tapping nervously against his knee.
The dimly lit room was silent except for the soft hum of the enchanted lamps lining the walls, casting eerie shadows that flickered across the stone floor. Across from him, lounging with an almost predatory ease, was Raven Nightshade—leader of the Order of Shadows.
Raven's sharp, dark eyes studied Dustan with an unsettling intensity, his lips curving into a smirk that held no warmth.
"You seem tense, Dustan," Raven said smoothly, his voice as soft as silk yet as dangerous as a blade. "Relax. This isn't an interrogation... merely a conversation between two like-minded individuals."
Dustan swallowed hard, his throat dry.
"You... you said you had something to talk about," he muttered, trying to keep his voice steady. "About Ashfelt."
Raven leaned forward slightly, his fingers interlacing as he rested his elbows on the table.
