Chapter 75
- The council chamber smelled of smoke and old stone, a scent that clung to the skin like history refusing to die. The walls were etched with the marks of generations: claw scratches from long-forgotten debates and symbols of victory and loss. It was a place built for judgment long before Ariana’s second life began, and now it felt suffocating, as though the ghosts of past rulers had returned to watch.
- Every wall hummed with distrust. Every eye was a blade.
- Ariana sat propped on a long bench beside Demion, the weight of a hundred stares pressing into her fragile frame. The faint ache in her ribs made every breath a reminder that she was still alive, though her body didn’t quite believe it. Her wounds had closed, but the ache inside her marrow whispered of debts unpaid. Something pulsed within her veins, ancient, rhythmic, patient, a heartbeat that did not belong entirely to her. Older than wolves. Older than blood.