Darius's heart slammed against his ribs like a frantic drumbeat, his breath caught in his throat. The single word—Brother—hung in the air between them, sharp and impossible to ignore.
His eyes flickered upward, tracing the outline of the figure before him. That aura—the way it twisted the air, the subtle warp of space around him—it was undeniable. This wasn't just a random stranger cloaked in shadow. This was him—the brother he had never truly known, yet somehow always carried a weight for.
Memories, fragmented and hazy, surfaced without warning. The spoiled elder brother from his old notes—the one who had always been untouchable, invincible in his arrogance because of his birthright. The one who adored Darius enough to declare war on Lucien, to move mountains for him, even if it meant becoming the storm that everyone feared.
The tension in the air was suffocating, but when the man stepped closer, that unbearable pressure suddenly unraveled.
