ADRIAN'S POV

The war room smelled of smoke, dry paper, and fear.

Maps covered the table, ink spilling across the edges from too many sleepless nights.

Outside, the wind moved through the towers, carrying the faint echo of Moonfang drums.

Silas, one of my father's most trusted council men, slammed a hand down on the table. “You should never have brought her here.”

I didn’t look up. “You’re repeating yourself.”

“I’ll keep repeating it until you listen,” he ...