The moment he passed through the gates, the presence vanished.
Just like that.
One second: thousands of invisible needles grinding into his flesh, hundreds of eyes drilling holes through his skull, killing intent so thick it felt like breathing through wet concrete—and the next?
Nothing.
Gone.
Like someone flipped a switch and decided the dragon appetizer wasn't worth the calories. Or maybe—more likely—
—they'd just let me walk deeper into the slaughterhouse so the kill would be cleaner. Sweeter. More theatrical.
Either way, Phei didn't trust it for a single fucking heartbeat.
He pulled out his phone. Typed a quick message. Hit send. Pocketed it again.
The gates groaned closed behind him like the jaws of something ancient yawning awake.
He looked up.
And forgot how to breathe for entirely different reasons.
The Ashford Estate wasn't a home.
It was a kingdom.
