Chapter 22

• Magnus’s POV
• The dim light flickered above me, barely cutting through the shadows. I leaned back in the chair, relaxed, letting the darkness cloak me like an old friend. My tall frame cast a long silhouette across the blood-streaked floor, and between my fingers, a silver blade spun lazily. Its sharp edge glinted whenever it caught the light, like a wolf’s fang glistening before the bite.
• “I heard you’ve been gathering a few old generals lately, Uncle Conor,” I said lightly, my tone almost lazy. “Foreign funds, new alliances… It seems your long hibernation was only to prepare for this—your grand flight to the heavens. Truly, you age like fine blood.”