The council chamber did not erupt into chaos.
It froze.
As if the entire room understood that one wrong movement would lead to blood spilling across the stone.
Jasper stood at the center of it all, blade still raised toward Serf, dark mana twisting violently around him like smoke pulled from the grave itself. Guards surrounded them from every direction, bows drawn tight, weapons trembling slightly beneath the pressure radiating from him.
Nicole could feel the bond straining.
Not breaking.
Burning.
"Jasper," she whispered again, more carefully this time. "Please."
His breathing was uneven.
The black in his eyes had consumed nearly everything.
For one terrible moment, Nicole truly thought he might lunge.
Then—
A sharp voice cut through the chamber.
"Enough."
The older councilman rose from his seat slowly, his presence commanding enough that even the guards hesitated.
"No blood will be shed in this chamber today."
Serf looked irritated by that.
