Declan's POV
The words hung in the air, suffocating me like a toxic cloud. "Your father is alive, and he's coming to kill you!" My mother's voice, usually so comforting, now felt like a dagger twisting in my gut.
I stared at her, searching for any sign that this was some sick joke. But her eyes held only sorrow and fear. My world tilted on its axis, everything I thought I knew crumbling around me.
"What the f**k are you talking about?" I snarled, my voice barely recognizable even to my own ears. "Dad's dead. He died on my coronation day. I saw his body!"
My mother flinched at my tone, but stood her ground. "Declan, please. I know this is hard to believe, but you need to listen."
"Listen?" I laughed, the sound harsh and bitter. "To what? More lies? How long have you known about this?"
