Darius’s POV
The Lycan palace gates swung open with a low groan that sounded too much like a warning.
I rode in on my black stallion, Liora beside me on a white mare that matched her gown. The air here felt heavier, thicker, like the forest itself remembered old grudges. Lucian and Kylan stood at the top of the wide stone steps, waiting. Once upon a time the three of us would have laughed and clapped each other on the back. Now the space between us felt sharp enough to cut.
I dismounted first and handed the reins to a waiting groom. “Lucian. Kylan. We were just passing through the borderlands…you know horseback riding in this weather is always pleasurable and I thought, why not stop by and say hello to old friends?”
Lucian’s golden eyes stayed flat. “Friends,” he repeated, voice cool.
