Nyra’s POV
Something was changing. I felt it long before I saw it. Power shifts always announced themselves quietly first. Not through grand betrayals or open rebellion. Those came later. Real danger began in smaller places. A delayed answer. A changed expression. A glance held too long. The subtle movement of influence from one pair of hands into another.
And Damon and Damon was changing.
I stood near the eastern palace windows overlooking the lower training grounds while wolves moved below in practiced formation. Discipline. Structure. Order. Things that should have reassured me.
Instead, I felt irritated. No. Not irritated. Threatened. A feeling I hated. Because threatened implied weakness and I was not weak.
I had not sacrificed years of my life building Damon into what he was tod
