The Council chamber was a crescent of black stone, its high windows admitting only a pale trickle of morning light. At its center, a long table carved from a single slab of obsidian gleamed like frozen midnight. Twelve chairs curved around it, each occupied by a robed figure.
Kael stepped inside without bowing.
"Alpha," Councilor Myreth said, her voice smooth as silk over steel. She was the one with eyes like a hawk, piercing, patient, and entirely too calculating. "We hear troubling reports."
Kael's jaw tightened. "From whom?"
"That is irrelevant," said Councilor Darn, the oldest among them, his voice as dry as old parchment. "What matters is what you intend to do with the girl."
"She has a name," Kael said, his tone clipped.
"Yes," Myreth replied, her lips curling slightly. "A name the enemy may already know."
Kael's hand flexed at his side, itching for a weapon. "You called me here for gossip?"
