*Saoirse*
The pounding was relentless, echoing through the stone walls of our chamber like the drumbeat of an omen. My eyes flew open, and my heartbeat synced with each thunderous rap upon the door.
"Rhys," I whispered, my voice a strained thread in the darkness. He was already rising from our bed, his warrior instincts cutting through the remnants of sleep quicker than mine.
"Stay behind me," he murmured, pulling on his tunic. His movements were swift and precise. I nodded, slipping into my garments. The fabric was cool against my skin. My heart pounded in my chest.
We approached the door together. Rhys' hand was poised on the hilt of the sword that never left his side. With a nod from him, I reached out and pulled the door open. The messenger nearly fell into our chamber gasping for air. His face was pale as moonlight.
"Speak," Rhys commanded, his tone leaving no room for preamble.
