Damon
The heavy oak doors of my war room shut behind me with a final, echoing thud. I didn’t lock them, but that’s a decision I’d regret in a minute.
I wanted no audience. No judgmental eyes. No false diplomacy. Just stone, silence, and the chill of twilight pressing in through the leaded glass windows.
I yanked off my jacket and tossed it over the nearest chair, then reached for the circlet still resting like a noose at my temples. I had worn it too long today. It came off with a muted scrape, and I set it on the polished table like it had burned me.
Lila’s voice still echoed in my ears—not the words, but the tone. Steady. Cold. A blade in her hand that she didn’t flinch from using.
And now the court was bleeding from the cut.
The fire crackled low in the hearth. I paced once, t
