"Victory is never promised. It is fought for, bled for, and earned in the ashes of what was lost."
The war council chamber smelled of sweat, steel, and the lingering scent of old parchment. A map of Verauno was stretched across the wooden table, covered in hastily drawn battle lines and ink-stained markers.
The air was thick with urgency, and the tension between us was something that couldn’t be ignored.
"We’re outnumbered," Idris said, his voice clipped. "Even with Kieran’s intelligence, the odds are against us."
"As if that’s ever stopped us before," Asher muttered, arms crossed as he leaned against the table.
Idris wasn’t finished. "If we don’t handle this right, we lose the city."
I straightened, voice sharper than before. "Then we don’t give them a choice. We draw them in. We ma
