Page 109 of Savage Crown

Guilt.

Vael hadn’t smiled. Hadn’t fought back.

He had let me stab him.

Because he knew he deserved it.

And yet—when Lartina’s men dragged him away, when Seraphina was stolen from my grasp—he didn’t laugh in victory like a man who had won.

He looked broken.

I ripthrough the wreckage of Vael’s home, shoving overturned chairs, smashing bottles against the walls.

Nothing.

Just blood and emptiness.

“Damn it!” I roar, my fury rolling in waves.

I grip the edge of the table, my knuckles turning white, my breath coming in short, violent bursts.

This is my fault.

I let my guard down.

I trusted him.

Vael had debts, I knew that. He was always desperate. Always playing a losing game in the slums, always looking over his shoulder.

But I thought he was stronger than this.

I thought he was still my brother.

Instead, he handed Seraphina over like a debt to be paid.

My fingers curl tighter around the wood until it splinters beneath my grip.

I need to find her.

I need to burn down everything until I do.

The slums stinkof sweat and filth, but someone knows something. I patrol the alleys, looking for any clues, specifically, Vael’s men.

And if they don’t, I will carve the truth from their tongues.

I pull one of Vael’s old informants from the shadows, slamming him against a crumbling stone wall.

He chokes on his own breath, eyes wide, terrified.

My dagger is already at his gut, the tip pressing just enough to draw a bead of blood.

“Where?” I snarl.

He stammers, shaking his head. “I—I don’t?—”

I twist the blade.

Not deep. Just a taste.

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