“Damian knows,” Zane’s voice was tight, his eyes scanning the empty hall with suspicion. “Elijah made his move too soon.”
My chest tightened. “How bad is it?”
“Bad enough,” Zane replied, his jaw clenched. “Damian’s already gathering his loyalists. He’s not waiting to be attacked.”
The words settled heavily between us, the finality of what was coming pressing down on me like a weight I couldn’t escape. Elijah had promised control, but now, all I saw was chaos.
“How long do we have?”
Zane met my gaze, his face grim. “Hours, if we’re lucky.”
I nodded, feeling the tremor in my hands as I clenched them into fists. It was happening. The battle I had been avoiding, the choice I had been running from—it was all coming to a head. Damian would fall, and I had helped push him over the edge.
I
