The training field still reeked of burnt metal and sweat from the morning drills when I found Arden standing near the armory. He looked like he hadn’t slept — eyes sunken, jaw tense, hands flexing like he was trying to shake something out of his bones. Maybe guilt. Maybe confusion.

Either way, I was done pretending everything was fine.

“You and I need to talk,” I said, stepping into his path. My tone wasn’t a request.

He blinked, caught off guard. “Now?”

...