dark fantasy · supernatural · protective sister · criminal underworld · dissociative identity disorder · grief · brass knuckles · political intrigue · trauma recovery · tragic romance
The council chamber, heavy with the scent of old wood and silence, framed Zeyn Syre at the head of the table. Her fingers traced the cold metal of Samuel’s signet ring, a loose fit that mocked her borrowed authority. Shadows held the other Elders, their eyes sharp, waiting for a crack in her composure. Beneath the scrutiny, Zeyn’s chest tightened—not just with the grief for her father, but with the secret weight of Christian’s fractured mind. The air grew taut as Alexander Lee slammed his hand down, demanding sanctions against the boy. Zeyn leaned forward, turquoise hair veiling her eyes as she locked gazes with him, her voice steady despite the white-knuckled grip on Samuel’s chair. The tension snapped when she invoked the taboo name of Andrew, silencing the room instantly. Ale…