Chapter 25. The Severed Flame

The air in the Great Hall was no longer breathable. It was a noxious cocktail of heat, terror, and the acrid, metallic stink of molten tradition. Fire was a clean destroyer; this was something fouler—the consequence of elemental power ripping apart ancient wards and magically treated stone. The Hall, a symbol of Wolf authority and stability for centuries, looked like a gaping wound.

Kade stepped over the threshold, not seeing the soot-stained marble or the grotesque, curling edges of the splintered oak banisters, but sensing the sheer kinetic grief imprinted on the walls. Enforcers, their armored leather scorched, worked alongside Healers to clear the wreckage and transport the injured. The only sound louder than the frantic calls for ice packs and stretchers was the low, electric hum of residual, chaotic magic clinging to the air like ozone.

Kade had shed the formal Alpha ceremonial attire. He wore only black tactical leather, his movements predatory and sharp. His exha