Damon
Maps sprawled across the table, corners curling, edges smudged with my bloody fingerprints. Every circle I’d drawn was another dead end. Every report stacked on the floor was another reminder of my failure.
Red wax seals littered the desk like the husks of broken promises.
I shoved one aside, parchment scraping over wood, and braced both hands against the table until it creaked beneath me.
My reflection stared back in the polished surface of a goblet: jaw clenched, eyes rimmed red, hair wild from too many sleepless nights. A man stripped of his crown, though it still sat heavy on my head.
The bond flickered.
I froze, breath caught mid-throat. For the briefest instant, I felt her—warmth sparking through my chest like a brand pressed to skin. Still alive.
Then it vanished, s
