Lord Peter stood frozen.
It was as though time itself had stilled around him—his breath stuck in his chest, the rush of blood in his ears drowning out the world. His eyes refused to blink, fixated on the figure that should have been untouchable, invincible… his son.
But there he stood.
Crown Prince Thas, heir to the kingdom, bound in chains before the full assembly of the Royal Council, his head held high but his honor shattered and smeared across the marble floor like mud on polished boots.
It was not supposed to be this way.
When Peter had whispered his final instructions to Thas—"Go to Almira, take care of the girl, clean up the blood, and return with silence"—he had imagined a simple, clinical outcome. An omega and her foolish fantasies about status and power removed. A scandal av
