The Breach
The air changed before the first alarm rang. Lena felt it—a ripple of wrongness that swept across her skin like cold fingers. The fire in Dominic’s chamber flickered violently, shadows stretching long and sharp against the stone walls.
Then came the sound.
A low horn blasted once, twice, thrice. The alarm of Blackthorn.
Lena’s breath froze in her lungs. They were here.
Rourke was already sprinting back down the corridor, his voice a weapon as he shouted for units to fall into position. Footsteps thundered through the stronghold. Steel scraped from sheaths. The growls of wolves in their half-shift filled the air with primal promise.
Mireya alone remained calm, her cloak trailing as she moved toward the window. Her voice was a whisper Lena barely heard. “The Banner walks wit
