The villa was cloaked in the thick tension of impending power. This was not the kind that crackled like lightning; this was quieter and heavier.
Inside Ryker’s war room, his private strategy chamber. Dim light filtered through narrow windows. Scrolls, maps, and guard schedules lie open.
Outside, the villa stirs under tense preparations for the festival. Inside, Ryker is a storm barely contained
Alpha Ryker stood at the head, jaw clenched, brow low, fingers tracing the path that led from the gates to the Night Villa’s courtyard. His eyes burned not with fire, but exhaustion that ran bone-deep. And guilt he refused to name.
The door creaked open behind him.
“You sent for me?” Chase’s voice was steady, low, and respectful.
“Yes.” Ryker didn’t look up. “We need to talk about Kaelion.”
