Brynn's mouth had gone dry. The Forsaken court was unsettling in its beauty, all impossible architecture and living shadows. This was different. This was a room that wanted her to know exactly how many ways she could die in it.
The throne was built from stacked weapons. Broken blades, shattered axes, splintered spear hafts welded together into a seat of metal and conquest.
And sitting at the center, looking entirely comfortable on her throne of broken weapons, was Seraphina.
Up close, she was even more imposing than she'd appeared from a distance. Six feet of violence, watching their approach with the calm of someone who'd carved her legend in blood and wasn't finished yet.
Brynn forced herself to breathe normally, to keep her expression neutral even though every nerve in her body wanted to step backward. She'd walked into hostile territory before. Noble estates, guilds that would kill her if they caught her. This was just another threat to navigate.
Except this one could probably snap her neck while carrying on a conversation.
Dante's shoulder shifted almost imperceptibly. Angling toward her. Putting himself a half-step ahead without making it obvious.
She shouldn't have found that comforting. She definitely shouldn't have felt her spine straighten because of it.
"Reaper." Seraphina's voice carried across the throne roomwithout effort. The kind of command that came from years of shouting orders across battlefields. "Still collecting strays, I see."
Heat flooded Brynn's face before she could stop it.
Seraphina noticed. The corner of her mouth curved.
Brynn locked her jaw and gave nothing else away. But beside her, Dante went still. Utterly, completely still. The kind of stillness that preceded violence.
His shadows spread an inch wider across the floor.
He didn't rise to it. "Seraphina." His voice stayed level. "Ward failures have been reported across multiple territories. We're investigating to determine the scope and cause."
No pleasantries. No pretense that this was a friendly visit.
Brynn stayed silent, studying Seraphina's face for micro-expressions, tells, anything useful. But part of her attention kept drifting to the shadows pooling at her feet. They'd curled around her ankle now.
She doubted he'd noticed. His focus was fixed on Seraphina, his profile sharp as cut glass in the red-tinted light. Jaw set. Eyes cold.
He looked like what he was. Death, wearing a beautiful face.
She needed to stop noticing his face.
"Ward failures." Seraphina rose from her throne. She was taller than Brynn had estimated, her presence filling the space in a way that pressed against the walls. "And you broughtthisto inspect magical infrastructure older than her entire bloodline?"
The dismissiveness made Brynn's jaw clench.
She kept her mouth shut. Her nails found her palms.
Darkness pooled deeper at Dante's feet, gathered tight.
"She's proven exceptionally skilled at reading ward-magic patterns." His voice stayed level, but an edge crept underneath. The kind of tone that made her pulse skip even when it wasn't directed at her. "Her evaluations have been invaluable."
Invaluable.
The word shouldn't have meant anything. It was a political defense, nothing more. A Death Lord protecting his asset in front of another predator.
It still landed where it shouldn't have.
"Invaluable." Seraphina descended the steps from her throne, andBrynn watched her move with the kind of lethal grace that reminded her, uncomfortably, of someone else. "You always did have interesting definitions of value,Dante."
His actual name instead of his title. Familiar. Intimate.
Cold slid through Brynn's chest.
