Marcus Lyric never rushed.
Rushing led to mistakes—and mistakes were luxuries he could not afford.
He stood alone in the private study of the old Lyric estate, the walls lined with portraits of ancestors who had ruled with iron certainty. Men who understood one truth Marcus had learned far earlier than Ethan ever had:
Power was not seized in a single strike.
It was dismantled, piece by piece.
Marcus adjusted his cufflinks calmly, eyes fixed on the tablet in his hand. The final confirmation glowed on the screen.
PHASE TWO: AUTHORIZED.
A thin smile curved his lips.
“About time,” he murmured.
Phase One had been simple—undermine Ethan’s stability. Expose emotional weakness. Force him into open defiance of the Silvercrest Council. A reckless Alpha was an easy Alpha to question.
And Et
