Kaelen pov
The holding cell beneath House Valerius was cold and damp, carved from the same ancient stone as the foundation itself. Kaelen sat on the hard bench with his head in his hands, replaying the events over and over in his mind.
He had let his emotions cloud his judgment. Again.
When Lyren attacked, he should have stayed calm, assessed the situation, and ended it quickly without escalation. Instead, he'd fought back, letting anger drive his actions. And his father… his father had thrown himself between them, taken the fire meant for Kaelen.
Why?
The question burned in his mind more painfully than any flame. The same man who had called him a failure, who had banished him to die in the Marches, who had turned his back when Kaelen needed him most… that same man had sacrificed himself to protect him.
It made no sense.
Find your mother, his father had said. She'll answer your questions about what you really are.
