KARIN
The silence in Rowan’s office felt different now. It did not weigh on my chest. It did not demand that I stay small or quiet. It felt charged, like the air before a storm breaks. Something was waiting. Something had already shifted.
I sat in the chair across from his desk. It was the same chair where I had once sat stiff and careful, listening to cold orders and sharp dismissals. I remembered how I used to hold my breath there. How I learned to keep my face blank. Tonight, that memory felt distant. I was not that woman anymore. I was not broken. I was not shrinking.
And Rowan knew it. I felt his awareness brushing against mine. He sensed the change, even if he did not yet understand it.
“Sebastian’s forces have retreated beyond the northern border,” Rowan said. He set the radio
