Inside the packhouse, a deceptive quiet had fallen, but beneath its polished surface, a palpable tension simmered, a silent hum of unspoken anxieties.
The third letter arrived, sealed with a meticulous dollop of crimson wax, the Moonpierce crest glinting faintly in the afternoon light.
Xander turned it over in his hand as they sat in the twins’ shared office, the opulent room strangely quiet. Kyson stood near the wide window, his arms crossed over his chest, his jaw tight, his gaze fixed on the distant forest.
“He’s nothing if not persistent,” Xander muttered, his voice a low growl, as he sliced open the elegant envelope with a precisely extended claw. The paper resisted for a moment before tearing cleanly.
Kyson didn’t turn from the window. “Read it.” His voice was flat, devoid of em
