The words weren't loud. They weren't shouted or delivered with particular force. They were a statement of such fundamental authority that Queen Morvana's remaining words died in her throat.
Her mouth remained open, her expression shifting from righteous anger to genuine shock that someone had just dared to tell her to be silent in her own throne room.
The council members all went rigid.
One of them, a male with dark hair and eyes that had seen centuries of history, made a sound and chuckled under his breath.
The guards were failing to maintain composure.
Several had actually fallen to their knees now, overwhelmed by the combination of heat, the manifestation of the fire hand, and the sheer oppressive weight of Jack's presence.
Their hands shook as they gripped their weapons, weapons that suddenly seemed about as useful as paper against the being standing in the center of the throne room.
