The dawn broke in a blaze of crimson across the horizon, painting the sky as though the heavens themselves bled for the war to come. Zaria stood at the balcony of Damian’s estate, her hands gripping the cold stone rail. The world felt sharper this morning, alive with a dangerous hum. Her body still ached, but her spirit burned brighter than the rising sun.
She had made her vow last night. No more waiting. No more silence. The Queen would strike first.
The sound of measured footsteps drew her attention. Damian emerged, crisp in a dark suit despite the early hour. He carried two mugs of coffee, the rich scent curling through the morning air. Without a word, he handed her one. She accepted it, their fingers brushing for the briefest moment, sending a current of heat through her veins.
“You
