Rowan's P.O.V.
The moment the messenger's words hit the air, everything inside me froze. My heart, already racing from the tension in the room, seemed to pause as if waiting for the world to catch up with the reality unfolding before me. Silas—he’s waiting for you—at the border.
I couldn’t make sense of it. He was supposed to be gone, exiled, not coming back to threaten us. And yet, here we were. A new fear had settled in my chest. What had he really wanted all along?
Lucian was the first to step forward, his face set with resolve. He could always be the calm in a storm, but I saw the tightness in his jaw, the hint of uncertainty in his eyes. His hand grazed his weapon, then fell. “Damian should lead this,” he said, glancing back at our father. “This is about his bloodline, his legacy.”
