Kael’s POV

Chains bit into my wrists, but I barely felt them.

The cold stone beneath me was familiar, too familiar. The Moonspawn’s under-halls hadn’t changed in years. They still smelled of wet ash, blood-soaked iron, and ancient rot. The silence was the same, too. Not peaceful, but haunted.

I was home.

Or what they used to call home.

The doors creaked open behind me, slow and deliberate. My senses sharpened. I didn't need to look to know who it was. His presence was unmistakable. My blood reacted to it, cold, sharp, instinctively retreating.

Kaedor.

My father.

He moved like a phantom across the floor, not tall, but powerful. Built...