The silence of the mansion rushed back in, cold and suffocating. Ren sat there for a long moment, staring at his own reflection in the dark glass. The warmth he had felt hearing Toby's voice had solidified into a sharp, jagged edge of pure, unfiltered resolve.
He stood up, his face hardening. Every minute he spent in this house, letting the opportunity to kill Cilian slide, and every indignity he suffered under Cilian, was for that boy.
And right now, that meant getting the truth.
Ren turned toward the guard, his gaze lethal. "Take me to the basement. I have an appointment with a traitor."
The heavy iron door groaned on its hinges, a sharp, metallic shriek that echoed off the damp concrete walls of the sub-basement. The air down here was different—cold, stale, and smelling faintly of mildew and old copper.
