Grace
The forest is quiet.
Too quiet.
I stand at the edge of the veil, my family behind me, the ancient trees of Balorien rising like sentinels around us. The air shimmers with latent magic, thick with the scent of pine, moss, and something older—something sacred.
I can feel the tension radiating from my father like heat from a forge. Triton’s arms are crossed, his jaw tight, his trident strapped to his back like a threat. Gods only know why he felt the need to bring it with him. It’s not like he’ll need it, but I guess he wanted to show my mate that he’s the boss. For fuck.s sake! Dad only has to wave his hand, and the damn thing would appear. But he doesn’t want to be here. That much is very clear.
He wouldn’t have come if Mom hadn’t forced him. Dad tried everything to make us stay
