KELLY THOMPSON'S POV

The thunderous crash of the doors jolted our meeting into chaos, the royal guard's intrusion cutting through the air like a knife. Our eyes locked upon the agitated messenger, his breaths coming in heavy pants that mirrored the urgency in his stance. I felt Jason's hand tighten around mine beneath the table, an unspoken promise that whatever loomed on the horizon, we would face it together.

"Your Majesties, Elder Matthias, Alpha Biansky," the guard addressed us with a bow, ...