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Chapter 9: Poison in the Air, Venom in the Veins
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Chapter 11: A Storm in the Chamber
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... If Atlas remembered clearly—and he always did—the tea would shimmer orange for a fleeting moment before shifting to green. A slow transformation, like watching rust bloom on iron left too long in rain.
He sipped it anyway, letting the warmth spread through him like a balm over raw nerves. The taste was perfect, as usual: bitter undertones balanced by sweetness that lingered on his tongue like an unspoken promise. Still, his golden eyes flickered faintly under the dim light of the study, ...
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