Logan stormed into his chambers, the heavy wooden door slamming behind him with a violent c***k. His chest rose and fell in uneven heaves, his fists clenched so tight his nails bit into his palms. He waved a hand sharply, sending the guards and attendants scurrying away. He needed silence. He needed air.
His thoughts battered his skull, louder than the clash of battle drums. Nicole’s voice echoed, accusing, reminding him of bloodlines and sins carved into history long before his birth. Daniel’s pained cry still rang in his ears. And Freya—Freya’s broken scream haunted him worst of all.
He pressed his back to the door, dragging in a breath that rattled in his chest. He had done what was right. What was necessary. That was what he told himself. Yet his heart beat like it was trying to brea
