He had not yet bothered to wash it away.
Cole stood beside the hearth with one boot braced against the stone ledge, staring into the fire as though it might offer answers if he watched long enough. His knuckles were bruised, swollen, and split in several places. The heavy bag in the training center had absorbed most of the punishment, although the damage to Cole’s hands suggested it had offered little relief.
Malakai remained near the window, half concealed by shadow, with the line of his shoulders held rigidly. He had been quiet for most of the evening, even by his own standards. His stillness carried the sense that he was already considering three possible futures while the others continued choking on the present.
Measured footsteps approached along the corridor.
Rhen entered without speaking.
His coat remained damp from the rain, and his dark hair was disordered where the hood had rested against it. He moved as though he had forgotten every unnecessary aspect of appearing human.
He acknowledged neither the room nor the tension waiting inside it. Instead, he crossed to the table and sat opposite Dax without looking directly at him.
Silence gathered around the four males until Cole finally broke it.
“Word is spreading.”
Dax raised his head.
“About what?”
“Leena.” Cole did not soften her name. “The civilians know she is dead. Some are calling it medical failure, while others are claiming sabotage. The details change depending on who tells the story, but the result is the same. Her death is no longer contained inside these walls.”
Malakai turned from the window and signed,The heretics already know. They have ears throughout the city.
Cole faced him.
“Then the threat is closer than we thought.”
Dax looked down at the blood marking his fingers before leaning forward and pressing them briefly against his temple.
“The prophecy.”
The word seemed to alter the room.
Dax shifted enough for Malakai to see his hands and signed the essential points as he spoke.
“Norse is alive, and if the prophecy is right, he can sire an entire line of purebloods. They could be stronger than us and perhaps stronger than Sule.”
Malakai’s expression hardened.
The heretics will not allow that line to begin if they believe killing the child will end it.
“It isn’t only the bloodline,” Cole said. “It is the throne, the clan’s future, and the balance of power.”
They all understood what that meant.
Leena had been the human queen who never sought a crown yet somehow became the emotional center of the stronghold. Sule had ruled with her heart influencing every decision, even when neither of them acknowledged it openly.
Now Leena was dead, Sule had withdrawn from public view, and Rhen was carrying grief in the only manner he knew how: by turning it into silence sharp enough to cut anyone who approached.
Norse remained alive upstairs, small and vulnerable, his cries reminding the compound of everything that had been taken and everything their enemies might still attempt to steal.
Veya had become another pressure point inside the fractured house. She was tethered to a male who could barely look at her without turning the responsibility into another private war.
Malakai faced Dax.
Do you believe they will attack the stronghold directly?
