Damon’s POV
The packhouse had never felt like this before. Alive.
Not in the usual way, routine movement, quiet discipline—but something sharper. Anticipation. Energy that moved through the halls like a current no one could ignore.
Servants rushed past with purpose. Guards stood straighter. Every detail was being adjusted, checked, perfected. Prepared…for me.
I stood in the center of it, watching it all unfold with a stillness that didn’t match the moment. This was it.
Everything I had worked toward. Everything I had chosen.
“You are doing that thing again.”
Nyra’s voice came from behind me, smooth and certain, like nothing in this world could disrupt what was about to happen.
I didn’t turn.
“What thing?”
“Thinking too much.”
A faint shift of movement, and then she was beside me
