••{RHIANNON'S POV}••
The moment Nytheriel's name leaves Seraphim's lips, I forget how to breathe.
My lips part but no sound comes out.
All I can do is stare at him while the wind moves around us and the dragons breathe softly behind him.
Then finally, I find my voice.
"You knew… Nytheriel?"
Seraphim gives me a nod.
"Yes," he says calmly. "I did."
"That's impossible," I whisper.
But as soon as the words leave my mouth, I realize how foolish it sounds.
I'm standing on a mountain beside a vampire king old enough to remember wars that shaped the world, with two dragons resting behind us.
Impossible lost its meaning a long time ago.
Seraphim turns his gaze toward the darkness beyond the mountain.
