The Sovereign’s POV
The night was too quiet, that bone-deep kind of silence that hums with dread, like the world itself was holding its breath before the scream. Not even the wind stirred through the high towers of the estate.
Then my phone buzzed against the armrest of my throne, jarring, sharp, like a warning shot.
I didn’t wait for a second ring.
“Speak.” My voice cut like ice through the receiver.
“She just ran out, Sovereign,” my spy panted. I could hear the wind rushing around him, the slap of his boots against pavement. “Diana. From Draven’s mansion. She was clutching her neck, panicking. There was blood… a lot of it.”
I stood, the ancient hardwood beneath me creaking under my weight.
“Did anyone follow her?”
“I’m on her tail. Orders?”
“Follow her,” I snapped. “Every secon
