KELLY THOMPSON'S POV

The moon hung low, a thin silver crescent against the velvet sky as I lay beside Jason. The stillness of the royal chamber afforded me a rare moment of introspection. "We can't afford to be islands, not anymore," I murmured, my voice barely above a whisper, laced with a weight that seemed to echo off the stone walls.

Jason's arm, strong and reassuring, wrapped around me. His chest rose and fell rhythmically, a counterpoint to the distant howls that whispered through our ...