Leo stood in the interrogation room, his jaw tight, the air thick with tension. "Anything more?" he demanded, his voice low. Salvek slumped in his chair, his face bruised and bloodied, his breathing shallow. "That's… everything," he gasped. "Nothing else."
Leo's frustration surged, but he kept it leashed. Vivien's kidnapping wasn't just the Wolves' revenge—it was a thread in a larger, cult-doing. He turned to the soldiers. "Lock him down. If he remembers anything, extract it." Striding out, his mind raced, the pieces of the puzzle tantalizingly close but incomplete.
On the manor's rooftop, Nimbus, in panther form, prowled around the bloodied remains of the unnatural bird. A blood-soaked letter lay in the gore. Nimbus's purple eyes narrowed, a low growl rumbling as he sniffed the paper, sensing its dark intent.
Gripping it carefully in his jaws, he leapt to the courtyard below, reverting to his cat form as he padded toward the Duke's office.
