Logan stormed into his chambers, the heavy wooden door slamming behind him with a violent crack. His chest rose and fell in uneven heaves, his fists clenched so tight his nails bit into his palms. He waved a hand sharply, sending the guards and attendants scurrying away. He needed silence. He needed air.

His thoughts battered his skull, louder than the clash of battle drums. Nicole’s voice echoed, accusing, reminding him of bloodlines and sins carved into history long before his birth. ...