The hum of the subterranean server stacks felt like a physical weight pressing against my temples.
The screen went dark, but my father’s final words hung in the freezing air of the archive, sharper than any silver blade: The moment she claims her throne... everyone around her bleeds.
I didn't look at Lyra immediately. I couldn't.
I kept my gaze fixed on the blank glass terminal, my knuckles white where my hands braced against the cold marble console. Through our bond, I felt her blood run ice cold. Her fear wasn't for herself.it was a sharp, jagged panic that she was a living weapon, a parasite poised to destroy the home we were trying to build.
"Gideon..." Her voice was a low, fractured whisper that cut straight through my ribs.
I turned.
Lyra was standing two feet away, her silver
