The heavy mahogany doors of the master suite clicked shut, completely sealing off the sound of Roxy's agonizing, muffled sobs.
Out in the dimly lit, freezing stone corridor, the atmosphere was suffocatingly tense. The younger children and Drax had already made their way down the sweeping staircase, taking the toddlers to the safety of the nursery wing. Only Iris remained, standing alone in the shadows, facing the three most terrifying apex predators on the continent.
Zarek, Kaelen, and Torian stood like statues of vengeance and heartbreak. Their massive shoulders were tense, their combat auras practically suffocating the hallway in a volatile mix of draconic heat, northern ice, and feral feline energy. They were Warlords who had just survived the end of the world, only to find their own home entirely fractured.
Iris did not shrink back. The young illusionist possessed a quiet, profound strength. She tilted her head up, her violet eyes locking onto the three towering Kings.
