"Power demands a price. The question isn’t whether we are willing to pay it—it’s whether we can live with the cost."
The war room was colder than usual. Not from the weather, not from the crumbling state of the palace walls—but from the weight of what was about to be done.
I stood at the center of it all, staring down at the carved runes etched into the stone floor. The magic that coursed through Verauno itself pulsed beneath my feet, waiting.
Waiting for my decision.
Asher stood behind me, his arms crossed, his face an unreadable mask. But his eyes—those eyes burned with something deeper than anger, deeper than fear.
He knew.
He knew what I was about to do.
"You don’t have to," he said, his voice a low rasp.
I turned my head slightly, but I didn’t look at him. "Yes, I do."
His ja
