Azriel's Point Of View
The audio on my phone cut out, leaving behind a sharp, ringing silence that pressed against the lounge walls like a physical force.
Lucian's voice still hung in the air, thick and breathless. Dad is alive. Three words that shattered everything we thought we knew. Three words that rewrote our entire history.
The silver flick-knife in his hand remained motionless. His knuckles had gone so tight they looked like polished ivory, his eyes darting between me and the silent phone on the table. I watched a muscle twitch in his jaw… the same tell he'd had since childhood whenever he was fighting to maintain control.
Across from him, Draven hadn't blinked once. His large hand remained wrapped around his scotch glass, but the amber liquid inside had stopped swirling.
