Chapter 7 · Eyes in the Shadow

"Step away from him, Grom. Now."

Sloane’s voice sliced through the room like a razor. She didn't just walk in; she materialized from the shadows, hand already white-knuckled on the hilt of her blade. Her eyes weren't on the troll king, though. They were locked on me. Lethal. Narrowed.

I didn't budge. I kept my hand exactly where it was—resting lightly on Grom’s massive, trembling forearm. His skin felt like hot granite, vibrating with a tremor only I could feel.

"He’s fine, Sloane," I said. My voice was steady, but my pulse was hammering against my ribs. "We're in the middle of a breakthrough."

"A breakthrough?" She stepped closer. The click of her boots on the stone sounded like a countdown. The air turned cold, smelling of ozone and old blood. "You've got a king of the Legion weeping like a child in a corner. That’s not a breakthrough, Julian. That’s a breach."

Grom let out a low, rumbling sound—half-sob, half-growl. The floor groaned under his weight. One wrong move from Sloane and this room became a slaughterhouse.

"I'm not weeping," Grom grunted, his voice like grinding boulders. "I'm... processing."

Sloane scoffed. A sharp, ugly sound.