Mikhail's breath was shallow, his mind racing as the weight of his father’s words pressed down on him.
You already know.
The statement settled like a stone in his chest, heavy and unshakable. But how could that be true? He had no memories of this man—no recollection of any pact, any betrayal. And yet, something deep inside him twisted at the thought, a feeling too strong to ignore.
Makayla was just as tense beside him. He could hear the way her breathing had changed, could feel the way her body had stiffened. She wasn’t saying anything, but he knew her well enough to understand what that meant.
She was starting to believe it.
Mikhail didn’t want to.
He clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms. "That’s not possible." His voice was rough, sharper than he intended. "We don’t
