Nolan POV
The temple air was heavy with incense, thick enough that I could taste it on the back of my tongue. The chamber was dim, lit only by the tall, thin candles that lined the altar, their flames flickering like they, too, were waiting to pass judgment.
The entire setting filled me with a sense of nostalgia and sadness. It made me think of my mother and the solemn ceremonies she used to drag me to as a child. She was always so devoted.
I had never believed in the Goddess. Not really. The stories were fine for pups, something to keep them in line, to give them a sense of meaning in a brutal world. But I had grown up under a father who spoke only of power and strategy, of bloodlines and survival.
Faith hadn’t kept me alive. Training had. Ruthlessness had.
And yet, as I stood befo
