He straightened, shadows flickering like living tongues of black fire behind him.
"Listen carefully," he said, his tone dropping into a coldness that shook the room. "If I ever take a mate, it will be her. And only her."
Not a single elder dared lift their head.
"If any of you suggest I take another woman," Dante continued calmly, "I will assume you are trying to insult my chosen mate. And I will act accordingly."
The shadows surged across the floor.
"And if any of you attempt to interfere again, your titles, your seats, your homes, and your families will be gone before the sun touches the horizon."
Every elder swallowed in unison.
Dante turned away, his cloak sweeping behind him like a moving storm.
"Consider this," he said as he walked toward the exit, "your final lesson."
He did not look back when he left the hall.
But all the elders stayed frozen in their seats long after he was gone.
