The knock wasn’t loud, but it carried. Three sharp raps that cut through the silence like the crack of a whip. Seraphina stiffened on the couch. Kael’s hand went automatically to the Glock on the table, sliding it into his palm in one smooth, practiced motion.

Kael didn’t move immediately. He stood with that hunter’s patience, gaze locked on the door as though it might breathe. His jaw ticked once, the only crack in the marble of his composure.

“Stay behind me,” he said, ...