Kael's POV
The morning felt longer than it should have been. The sun had risen, but the fortress remained draped in silence—the kind that lingered after blood had been spilled. Even the wind seemed to hold its breath, as though Blackwood itself mourned what had happened the night before.
I stood in the war room—the same table where Ronan once mapped his raids now covered with half-written orders and maps. My eyes traced the routes again and again, desperate for any sign, any hint of where they might have been.
I had sent scouts toward the border, the place where they were supposed to burst out from the tunnels. I dispatched riders through the forests and tried every signal line we'd ever used in emergencies.
Nothing.
Every message returned unanswered—or vanished entirely. It was as though Maya, Henry, and Zara had been swallowed by the earth itself.
I gripped the edge of the table, jaw tightening. "There has to be a way…"
