Days later, Liam arrived in the West. Damian rode at his right, eyes sweeping over the faces of the crowd gathering, his hand hovering near his blade.
“They are watching us,” Damian said.
“I know,” Liam replied. “Let them.”
Behind them, the Royal Guards rode in two tight columns, armor glinting under the dull light. Witches moved among them, staffs upright, their eyes flicking to every shadow and alley.
The road widened as they entered the central square. At the far end stood the heart of the West—its fortress-like hall with high stone walls. The two Vampire Lords in charge of the Western territories were waiting there, flanked by their own guards.
“Your Majesty,” one said stiffly, bowing just enough to meet protocol.
“Lords,” Liam returned curtly. His gaze was already moving past th
