If Kyle Ashenvyre was fire, brilliant and furious, and if Selene Yevannah was light, radiant and untouchable, then Rylen was the stillness that came before the storm. He was the shadow crouched at the edge of vision, the silence that stretched too long before thunder broke. His presence demanded attention without effort.
The distance between them closed, and at last the two stood across from one another. The space that separated them seemed alive, charged with invisible pressure that neither blade nor word had yet disturbed. The spectators leaned forward unconsciously, breaths held tight in their chests.
