Lyrax's eyes widened. "Was that a threat just now?" he asked, disbelief lacing his tone.
Silva slowly shook his head. "A threat?" he repeated softly, his golden eyes narrowing to thin slits. "No. It is a fact."
There was a dangerous calm in his voice, one that carried more weight than shouting ever could.
Normally, Silva would have avoided unnecessary attention from the big figures of the Arcane Council. He preferred to stay low, to observe from the shadows, to work quietly within the system for now. But they had called him out—forced him into their light. And the Pride Dragon within him refused to bow.
Backing down simply wasn't in his nature.
Lyrax stared at him, still stunned. But what surprised him more was that the Council didn't react with outrage. Instead, faint laughter echoed from the seven flames.
Low at first, then louder.
