The line went dead.
The silence that followed wasn’t empty—
It was heavy.
In the Rogue King’s office, no one moved for several long seconds.
Damon stood still, the phone still in his hand, his gaze fixed somewhere beyond the wall as if he could still hear the echoes of the conversation.
Beside him, Willow lowered her hand slowly, her fingers curling slightly as if letting go of something she hadn’t realized she was holding onto.
Behind them, Conall shifted his weight.
Once.
Twice.
Then finally exhaled.
“That…” Conall muttered under his breath, “went better than I expected.”
Willow let out a soft, humorless breath.
“Did it?”
She didn’t look at either of them.
Didn’t need to.
“Because from where I’m standing…”
A pause.
“My brother still wants to kill you.”
Damon huffed out
