The thunder rolled in Thornhaven long before the storm touched its gates.
Liam stood on the western balcony of the High Hall, the same one where he’d once watched Nova walk away from him with fire in her veins and secrets in her eyes. But now, it wasn’t Nova that kept his gaze locked on the horizon.
It was the war that was coming.
Not a war of lands or gold or pride.
A war of bloodlines.
And at the center of it was Cassia, his daughter, his miracle, his curse. The very embodiment of everything he and Nova never asked for, yet everything they would die to protect.
He heard her footsteps before she reached him.
Nova.
She stepped beside him, not saying a word, just watching the clouds churn above the Vale.
“She didn’t sleep much,” Nova finally said, her voice low.
“Seryna?” Liam ask
