Liam stood beneath the blood-red sky, watching the sigil pulse above Thornhaven like a beating heart. It cast long shadows across the courtyard, twisting the familiar into something sinister. Around him, soldiers scrambled, mages lit flames, and Cassia’s cries echoed from her room.
He didn’t flinch.
Didn’t move.
His mind was already racing.
Third line…
The words of the prophecy gnawed at him.
The child of vengeance and ice.
He clenched his fists. Whoever this was, she was threatening his family, his daughter.
And Liam didn’t forgive threats.
Ever.
Nova stepped beside him, cloak billowing in the sharp wind. Her eyes locked onto the sigil with a look of haunted recognition.
“You’ve seen this before,” he said.
She nodded slowly. “In the archives beneath the Ashford estate. Only on
