When The Stars Didn't Align.

Keon’s POV:

The reports should have brought clarity.

Instead, they only deepen the restless agitation sitting beneath my skin.

Several pieces of documents lay scattered across the desk in front of me, each one a careful account of movements, positions, observations that should have aligned into something useful. Torches burned low along the chamber walls, their dim glow doing little to soften the tension tightening my temples.

I’d been here for hours trying to look for anything out of order, out of the ordinary, any sort of trace that would be a clue.

Every guard had submitted a statement, and according to these files, each guard had seen nothing.

Derrick’s annoying message, like a nagging mother, went off. He had called my efforts right now a waste of time. His suggestion was ridiculous, ridiculous enough that I wasn’t even going to consider it, talk less of thinking about doing it.

My fingers tapped once against the wooden surface before stilling. I forced my attention back to the document in my hand, scanning lines I had already read more than once.

The paper heading read : Routine patrol.

No disturbance, or anomaly.

Useless.

I reached for the next report.

And then the next.

Names. Times. Assigned routes. The same rigid structure repeated until the words blurred into something mechanical and hollow. Nothing stood out. Nothing explained how Winter could have been attacked within my own territory without a single witness.

A low irritation coils in my chest.

Derrick’s voice returns.

You are not going to find her attacker like that.

My jaw tightened.

I refused to acknowledge the echo, yet the memory lingered all the same. His certainty had been infuriating. His calm dismissal even worse.

Another paper slid free beneath my hand.

I read it once.

Then again.

My gaze paused.

Something small I almost ignored.

A guard names Carter, was on duty somewhere on the other side of the house where the attack happened, with fellow card Richard.

Hadn't I seen that Richard name partnered with someone else?

I frowned faintly, setting it aside as my hand automatically reached for another sheet.

Guard Richard at the Gates with Logan.

My fingers stilled.

I picked up the first report of paper slowly.

Yes, I was right, Richard with Carter, and here on another page was the same Richard, with Logan?

Silence pressed heavily against the chamber.

That was… odd.

It's not impossible for guards to have more than one shift with more than one partner a day. It happened. Yet something about it refused to settle comfortably in my thoughts.

I reached for the patrol schedule, checking to see if he has a double check.

Logan had been assigned to the Gates till about an hour before Winter's attack.

Nothing more.

No reassignment.

My temples throbbed.

I exhaled sharply through my nose, irritation flickering.

Clerical incompetence.

That had to be it.

It's for exactly these reasons she was hurt.

But still...

The unease remained, quiet but persistent, like a splinter lodged somewhere deeper than reason.

Derrick’s words surfaced again, unwelcome.

If the attacker was strong enough to come in completely undetected…

My fingers curled slightly against the parchment.

I had walked those grounds myself.

There had been no guards.

No witnesses.

Nothing.

The thought soured my mood further. I shoved the reports aside with more force than necessary, the documents sliding unevenly across the desk.

Enough.

No amount of paperwork would change what had already happened.

My gaze drifted toward the chamber door.

Winter had not awakened.

More than a day unconscious. Even for a witch, that length of time sat uncomfortably with me. The healer’s reassurances did little to ease the quiet tension gnawing at the back of my mind.

Perhaps Ariana should be summoned sooner.

The decision formed without resistance.

I was already moving.

The corridors felt colder now, the torches casting long shadows that shifted along the stone walls as I passed. Each step carried a strange heaviness I could not entirely explain.

By the time I reached her door, my irritation had dulled into something less defined.

Unease.

My hand closed around the handle.

She would still be unconscious.

The thought came with certainty.

I pushed the door open.