Draven’s POV
The weight of the night pressed against my shoulders, heavier than the shadows stretching across my chambers. The fire in the hearth had burned low, leaving only embers that pulsed like dying stars in the dim light. A single candle flickered on my desk, its weak glow barely illuminating the parchment before me. Documents. Reports. Decrees that required my attention.
None of it mattered.
Not when my name was being dragged through the mud.
Not when whispers slithered through the halls like serpents, wrapping around my every move, coiling tighter with each passing day.
I leaned back in my chair, running a hand over my face. My jaw was tight, my temples thrumming with the pressure of thoughts I couldn’t quiet. The weight of it all settled deep in my bones—a slow, suffocating
