Third‘  person pov.

The forest was old. Older than memory, older than war. Trees twisted skyward like ancient sentinels, their roots weaving through the earth like secrets buried too long. The air was thick with damp moss, magic, and the promise of unease.

Tiberius adjusted the strap across his chest and cast a sideways glance at the man walking beside him.

Arius.

An Original.  Immortal.

And as far as Tiberius was concerned—dangerously ...