~ZEPHYRUS' POV
"Is it over?"
The question came from one of the surviving royal guards the moment we broke through the ruined sanctuary floor.
His voice was rough, half-choked by smoke and exhaustion. I could not blame him for asking because the capital above us looked wrecked.
Towers had collapsed into fractured stone, sections of the palace walls were scorched black, and blood stained the once-pristine marble roads in long, ugly streaks.
But the kingdom still stood.
I stepped out first, my boots crushing broken debris beneath me, my flames finally dying down now that there was nothing left to burn.
Behind me, Zade remained coated in frost and blood, looking just as exhausted as I felt.
Then Alaric rose from the ruins.
Silence hit the capital instantly, not because they feared him, but because they understood exactly what his presence meant.
The Council was gone.
