Chapter 51
****Elara’s POV****
The war tent was alive with noise—the hiss of parchment being unrolled, the clatter of armor, the heavy scrape of steel against scabbard. The air smelled of smoke, sweat, and the metallic tang of ink. It was not the scent of fear; it was the scent of inevitability.
Maps were spread across the long oak table, their surfaces layered with pins and small carved figures marking armies and strongholds. Kael’s symbol—a black sun—was etched in several places along the border, each one representing a city now burned or occupied.
I stood opposite Lucien, my hands braced against the table’s edge, scanning the ink lines as if by will alone I could shift the tide of this war. Every plan, every move mattered now. The siege on Kael’s fortress would decide not just the b
