Chapter 41

• I was utterly drained. The grind at work had already worn me thin, but compared to the chaos of the court trial, my time at the bank felt almost serene. I took a grim sort of comfort in knowing that justice—of some kind—had been served, yet the events at the Night Council’s headquarters left me burdened with an unease I couldn’t put into words.
• I was well aware of the Lord Protector of Kessler’s influence among the vampires, but what gnawed at me was his brazen interference in my father’s affairs twice in a single week. He had slaughtered Malcolm and his entire team—warriors loyal to my father—and now, through indirect means, was responsible for the death of another prominent figure from the pack. Though, in truth, none of them were innocent enough to not deserve such an end.
• Malcolm, in particular, carried the blood of half a pack on his hands. A pack that had dared to defy my father’s will. They weren’t fighters, just a fragile group seeking peace. Yet Malcolm and his men decimated them, sparing no one—not even the women or children. I hadn’t known Caelum Langridge personally, but the fact that he worked for my father was enough to suspect he wasn’t much better. Still, as justified as their deaths seemed, I couldn’t ignore the growing tension. My father wouldn’t let such affronts go unanswered.