Kaelen’s footsteps echoed long after he was gone, each one a drumbeat of danger reverberating through the chamber. The archives felt smaller now, the air thicker, the walls closing in as if the Council itself pressed against her.
Zaria held the parchment in her hands, its surface worn, the ink faded but still legible. The words stared back at her like ghosts. Names, dates, records of supply shipments nothing unusual at first glance. But buried in the lines were patterns. The same name appearing again and again. Transfers of silver, weapons, and coin all routed through minor packs on the borderlands. Packs that, months later, had fallen to rogue attacks.
Her heart pounded.
It was not proof yet, but it was close. Too close for coincidence.
Damian watched her, his hands sliding into his p
