Elira stood in the war room—barefoot, fierce, untouchable. The concrete walls vibrated with tension, blueprints spread across the table, weapons lined like warnings.
“Tell me everything,” she said. “No more secrets. If I’m going to war for my daughter, I want full sight.”
Damien and Soren shared a look. Then Damien stepped forward.
“The Blackwood facility was built under my grandfather’s rule. Underground levels. No windows. No exits without codes.”
“Security?” Elira asked.
“Unbreakable,” Soren replied. “Unless you’re me.”
Her eyes cut to him. “You’ve been inside?”
He nodded. “I was trained there. Years ago. Before I walked away from everything that smelled like Blackwood blood.”
“Walked away from him,” Damien muttered.
Soren didn’t rise to the bait. “I still know how to get us in
