Chapter 145

The ballroom’s opulence felt heavier as the evening deepened. The air carried an edge—tense, brittle, as if the lavish surroundings strained to mask the building storm. The sound of soft laughter and clinking glasses layered over the underlying unease, but I could feel it in every glance, every hushed whisper exchanged in the corners of the room.

Jormun and I moved carefully through the crowd, each of our steps calculated. His hand brushed against mine occasionally, a subtle reassurance amid the glittering chaos. Somewhere in this sea of power and pretense, Jett and Renard waited. Their absence weighed on me, even as I maintained my composure.

“There,” Jormun said quietly, his gray eyes flicking toward a shadowed alcove near the edge of the ballroom. “By the staircase.”

I followed his gaze and spotted them immediately. Jett was leaning against the wall, his black hair a tousled mess that somehow worked with the sharp lines of his dark blue suit. His relaxed posture