Lucian
Kieran’s voice landed in the boardroom like a blade offered hilt-first—steady, controlled, meant to be taken.
“Alpha,” he said, calm as if we weren’t standing at the edge of a political cliff. “I have an idea.”
Emma’s face was still pale, eyes too bright, breath held too tightly in her chest. Through the bond I felt her fear trying to harden into anger—trying to become something she could hold.
I couldn’t let her drown in it.
Not while Malrec was already shaping the room.
I turned to Kieran, jaw tight, mind already moving because it had to.
“What do you think?” I asked.
Kieran didn’t hesitate. He never did.
“The kings agreed to reconvene in the morning,” he said. “Which means we have the entire day ahead of us. If we use it right, we can shape tomorrow before it ever begins
