KINGSLEY POV
I wasn’t good at this kind of stuff. Wasn’t good at planning, plotting, keeping it cool when things spiraled out of control. I didn’t have the patience for political talk or the headspace for prophecy interpretations and cosmic consequences. That was Kendrick’s arena. Strategy and cold logic? Kyle’s jam. Holding it together when the world fell apart? That was never really my strength.
Me? I was good at the physical. At training until my body ached and my mind went quiet. At sparring until blood sang in my veins and I forgot what fear felt like. At joking until the heaviness in someone’s chest lifted, even just a little. At protecting what was mine — no questions asked, no hesitations. That was my role. That was where I thrived.
So while Kendrick and Kyle sat with our mother
