Thoren
The door to our room clicked shut behind me with a sound too soft for the night I’d just survived. My hands still carried the faint metallic scent of silver and blood even after I’d washed them three times.
Reddick’s body had been taken to the royal morgue under heavy guard. I’d handled the transfer myself—signed the paperwork, spoken to the medical team, made sure nothing was rushed or disrespectful. Kael had already torn out of there in a rage long before anyone arrived on scene.
I hadn’t tried to stop him. He needed the run, the shift, the space to burn off whatever was ripping him apart.
I was still in nothing but the gray sweats I’d yanked on when Kael’s urgent call had interrupted us earlier. The castle halls had been silent on my way back, but the weight of the night pr
