Aria's POV
Elara turned two the week the first strange reports began arriving from the western border — small at first, easy to dismiss as ordinary territorial friction. Livestock disappearing. Patrol routes disrupted. Nothing alarming enough, individually, to warrant more than routine investigation.
Together, they formed a pattern Damien clearly didn't like.
I found him in his study, well past midnight, a map of the western territories spread across his desk, expression drawn tight with the particular focus I'd learned meant genuine concern.
"You're supposed to be resting," I said, settling into the chair across from him.
"I know." He didn't look up from the map. "I keep thinking about this pattern instead."
"Tell me."
He traced a line along the western border. "Three villages, all
