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Chapter 139: The Clean Cut
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Chapter 141: The Weight of Names (2)
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... n Sylas’s desk, the metal making a soft click against polished wood. Blood had dried in the tiny crevices of House Trelaine’s crest, a falcon clutching a branch of some forgotten tree.
Sylas barely glanced at it, those unsettling green eyes flicking from the ring to Soren’s face. "Done," he said. No praise. No lecture. Just acknowledgment of a task completed.
Soren stood straight, hands relaxed at his sides. His body ached from the journey back through the Wastes, but he kept his ...
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