The throne room is empty.
Massive stone pillars stretch toward the high vaulted ceiling, moonlight spilling through the tall windows and across the polished floor. Torches burn low along the walls, their flames flickering quietly in the silence.
Ace walks ahead of me.
He doesn’t say why he brought me here.
He doesn’t have to.
This room belongs to him.
To us.
The throne sits at the far end of the chamber, carved from black stone, ancient and imposing.
Ace stops in front of it and turns to face me.
His dark eyes study me for a long moment.
Then he sits.
The king settles back against the throne like it was carved for him alone.
His gaze lifts to me.
“Come here.”
It isn’t harsh.
But it’s still an order.
I walk toward him slowly.
Before I can say anything, his hand closes aroun
