The day arrived with an uneasy stillness in the air.
Draka stood at the edge of the courtyard, his expression unreadable as the early sun cast golden light across the palace grounds. The time had come. His journey to the council of Alphas could not be delayed any longer — a necessary political move, though every instinct inside him screamed not to leave.
His gaze shifted to Aria.
She stood at the entrance of the fortress, arms gently folded over the slight curve of her stomach, her long dark hair swaying in the breeze. She was calm — or at least, trying to be. But he could see the tension in her posture, the way her fingers curled slightly against her arms, betraying her unease.
“I want you to come with me,” Draka had said the night before, voice low and pleading. “This land is not saf
