🦋ALTHEA
The words hung in the air like a spell gone wrong, warping reality itself.
Victim.
Not spy. Not traitor. Not enemy.
Victim.
The room erupted.
Not with sound—there was no shouting, no chaos—but with a collective intake of breath so sharp it felt like the air itself had fractured. Shock rippled through the gathered Vargans like a shockwave, their hatred stuttering, confused, seeking a new target and finding none.
I couldn't move. Couldn't breathe. Couldn't process what I'd just heard.
"That's impossible!" Ivanna's voice cut through the stunned silence like a blade, sharp and disbelieving. She stood, her chair scraping against the floor. "She was found with his arm, covered in his blood, reeking of—"
"Decorum, Ivanna."
The Hell Hound's voice wasn't loud, but it carried absolute authority. Not a request. A command.
"Zeta Kael speaks. You will listen."
