ALEXANDER
“The next head they’ll be coming for is yours.”
Three days since those words were spoken, and they haven’t stopped echoing in my skull.
Three days, and I still hear them when I close my eyes—in the silence between breaths, in the shadows stretching across my land. They cling to me like smoke, impossible to shake.
And in those three days, everything has gotten worse.
Shipments hit. Goods stolen. Men dead.
Every report that crosses my desk feels like another crack splitting through my pack, another piece of armor falling away. I’ve gone over the details a hundred times,
maybe more, trying to find the flaw, the clue, the mistake that would tell me who’s behind it all. But there’s nothing. Whoever’s doing this is careful. Organized. Smarter than most enemies I’ve dealt with b
