He was waiting for the right moment.

“What do we do with him, Silvio?” the captain by the window asked, nodding toward Leo.

“He faces the council,” Silvio said, his gun still trained on Leo’s chest. “We don’t support a kin-slayer.”

Leo’s eyes darted to the window, then to the door, realizing he was cornered.

“You’re all old men,” Leo spat. “You’re living in the past.”

His hand tightened on his gun, his knuckles turning white.

“Leo, put the gun down,” Silvio ordered, taking a step closer.

“I’d rather burn this house down with all of us in it,” Leo said.

The phone on the desk buzzed again, the screen lighting up with a new text message.

The sudden vibration made the phone slide an inch closer to the edge of the dark wood.

Every eye in the room flickered toward the sound.

At that exact moment, the heavy oak doors of the study began to creak open.

The heavy oak doors of the study began to creak open.

A young guard stood in the threshold, his face pale and wet with rain.