"Love is not the surrender of power, but the choice to wield it together."
For the past two hours, Alaric and I had been locked in his office, a storm of decision and power between us. Orders had flowed like lightning. Marcus was already in motion, orchestrating the covert arrest of Master Elion with surgical precision. Juno had mobilized the silent search for the compromised Ironwood. Silas was deep in the archives, tracing ancient Mage ruins, sending Rell and Gavriel every text that could strengthen their bond against the Genesis rot. And my task was pure, physical defence.
I had taken full command of the BlackThorne divisions, forming a second perimeter of protection that relied on no magic, no rune, no promise, only the will and discipline of soldier, flesh, steel, and instinct.
