The Heart’s Gambit

The throne room had become a war chamber, its vaulted ceiling scarred by claw marks and moonlight, the air heavy with the iron reek of blood and the acrid bite of rogue magic. Zelda stood at the heart of the chaos, the pup—her pup, her chain—cradled in one arm, his silver eyes glowing with Selena’s divine fire. The grimoire floated before her, its Goddess’s Fall spell pulsing like a wound, the cost scrawled in crimson runes: The Wraith’s heart. Kael leaned against the throne, his shoulder bandaged but his gaze unyielding, his blood still staining Zelda’s gown from the battle. Thorne paced the perimeter, his rogues dragging...