Trayton
Trayton had always known he wasn’t like the others. The men his father recruited were sharp, cruel, eager to spill blood. Trayton followed orders, yes, but most days it felt like a mask he couldn’t take off. He didn’t want to be like them. He just wanted to survive.
Kodian had told him his whole life that he was “just a human.” Somehow that had never felt right. He healed too fast. He moved too quickly. His instincts were wrong for a normal man. But arguing with Kodian was punishable, so Trayton kept his mouth shut and his questions buried.
He’d even started sneaking into the library at night, reading about the gods and goddesses Kodian called enemies. The stories weren’t as monstrous as his father made them sound. Sometimes they even seemed noble. That secret—his doubts—he kept
