Unspoken truth

"You should have stayed in the shadows where you belong, Zareth."

Cerius's voice was low, calm but deadly, his piercing gaze locked onto the man standing before him.

Zareth stood tall, his presence suffocating, his silver hair illuminated by the dim moonlight filtering through the high windows of his estate.

His eyes…stormy, unreadable, dangerous…gleamed with unspoken rage.

"And let you think you've won?" Zareth chuckled, though there was no humor in his voice. "We both know that's never going to happen."

Cerius took a slow step forward, his expression unwavering.

"What do you want, Zareth?"

Zareth's smirk vanished.

"You know exactly what I want."

The air thickened, a deadly charge crackling between them.

Cerius clenched his fists, his wolf restless inside him.

"You're wasting your time."

Zareth's laughter was sharp, filled with mockery.

"Am I?" he mused, stepping closer.