Damien's POV
The war council chamber smelled of iron, smoke, and fear. Maps littered the long Duyrian table, edges curling from the heat of the torches. Voices clashed like blades, elders arguing, captains demanding orders, Kael trying to calm them all. I sat at the head of the table, but my mind wasn't here. It hadn't been for weeks.
Every time I closed my eyes, I saw him.
Adrian, his eyes the color of a storm, his voice echoing through my head like a wound that refused to close. I'd buried him a thousand times in my thoughts, and yet his ghost followed me like a curse.
"Alpha Damien," Kael said beside me, snapping me from the trance. His tone was careful, respectful. "The council needs your word on the border movements. The vampires..."
"I heard," I muttered, rubbing the back of my neck. The muscles ached, tight from sleepless nights. "Double the scouts at the Blackthorn ridge. No one crosses without my command."
