Miguel stepped into the center of the courtyard, carrying a folding table and a roll of parchment. He set it down before the kneeling Alexander, along with a silver basin, a bone-handled ritual dagger, and a vial of dark crimson sealing wax.
The old man remained on his knees, his hands shaking violently as he picked up the quill.
Every eye watched in deafening silence as the proud ruler of Silver Crest skimmed the terms of the treaty. With every line he read—surrendering the northern territories, forfeiting the River border posts, and voiding every legal, historical, and marital claim over my bloodline—a piece of his soul seemed to wither away.
He dipped the quill and signed his name at the bottom of the parchment:
'Alexander Grey, Head of the Grey Family. Alpha of Silver Crest.'
"The
