Kaspers pov
The scent of her blood still hung in the air of the council chamber: metallic, sweet, and undeniably ancient. I watched from the shadows of the stone pillars as the black sedan carrying Hannah and her father pulled away from the curb. The taillights flickered like dying embers in the twilight, leaving me alone with the weight of the day's performance.
I leaned against the cold masonry, my fingers tracing the edge of my jaw where I could still feel the phantom heat of her gaze. Hannah Kian was no longer the broken girl I had seen in that cell. She was becoming something else: a creature of velvet and iron. The way she had sliced her palm without a flicker of hesitation had sent a jolt through my own wolf. It was a display of raw, cold sovereignty that I hadn't expected from a girl who had spent the last year in a cage.
"She is quite the actress, Henry."
