LOGIN(Lena POV)The stack of bowls sat between us, the top one still smeared with a drying film of beef fat. Mira reached out and traced the chipped rim of her ceramic mug with her thumb, a slow, repetitive motion. The orange streetlamp light through the window made her shadow stretch across the floorboards, cutting through the steam still rising from the pot on the stove. I leaned back in the chair, the wood pressing into my spine, and watched a loose thread on my sleeve. I pulled at it, the wool tightening around my wrist."What did he do, Lena?" Mira asked. She didn't look up from the mug. "You don't just walk through that gate and down the mud path because the highland air got too thin. Something pushed you."I looked at the gold coins still scattered on the table. One had rolled into a puddle of spilled water, its face half-submerged. I reached out and pushed it with my fingernail, the metal sliding across the wood with a dull grating
(Lena POV)"I’m not fine, Mira," I said.My voice sounded thick, like the air in the kitchen. I reached for the napkin, folding the thin fabric into a tight, sharp square and then unfolding it again, my thumbs pressing into the creases."Is it about Kai?" Mira asked.She leaned forward, her elbows resting on the stained wood of the table. I felt the skin around my mouth pull tight. My jaw locked so hard the bone behind my ear made a small, sharp pop. I looked down at the table, at a deep scratch in the pine where a knife had slipped years ago. I didn't want to say his name. I didn't want the sound of it to bounce off the peeling plaster of this room. I bit the inside of my cheek until I tasted the copper of blood.Mira watched me. She didn't reach out. She didn't pull back. She just sat there with that stillness she always had, the kind that made the rest of the world feel like it was moving too
(Mira POV)I kept my hand on the latch, the wood feeling rough and damp against my palm. Lena was standing on the narrow porch, her silhouette framed by the gray, heavy light of the lowlands. Her hair was coming loose from its knot, damp strands sticking to the sweat at her temples despite the chill in the air. She didn't look like a girl living in the Silvercrest quarters. She looked like someone who had been running for a long time and had finally hit a wall she couldn't climb over.I opened my mouth. I wanted to scold her. I wanted to ask why the only news I had of her for days came from the whispers at the market or the gossip of the guards at the gate who laughed about the "Lowland stray" in the Alpha’s house. I wanted to ask why she hadn't sent a single word, not a scrap of paper or a message through a runner, while I sat here wondering if she was being fed or if she was being buried under the weight of that stone compound. But I look
(Kai POV)Darius finally moved. He didn't look at me, but he reached for the silver pen and began to tap it against the edge of the leather-bound ledger. The sound was rhythmic and sharp, a tiny metallic pulse in the center of the room."It was a logical deduction, Kai," he said. He spoke to the stack of reports on his left, his voice regaining that low, gravelly timbre he used for negotiations. "The tension has been climbing for weeks. You don't need a secured channel to see the shape of the clouds before a storm. I’ve lived through enough Varden escalations to recognize the signals.""Signals," I said. I didn't move from the edge of the desk."Signals," he repeated, gaining momentum. He finally looked up, though he aimed his gaze at my throat rather than my eyes. "The movement of scouts. The shift in the grain market. The way the Lowlands went quiet. It doesn't take a genius to put those pieces together and conclude that a strike
(Kai POV)The wood of the door was cold against my forehead. My father’s palm was still pressed flat against the oak, inches from my ear, and the vibration of his breathing seemed to travel through the panels and into my own skin. I didn't move. I didn't pull the handle. I watched a small bead of moisture trail down the brass latch, the metal reflecting the dying orange glow of the hearth.Darius didn't move his hand. He leaned in closer, his shadow swallowing mine against the door. The smell of whiskey was sharper now, mixed with the metallic scent of the silver letter opener he had been gripping for the last half hour."How did you stop the Varden attack," he said.The clock on the mantle ticked once. Twice. The sound of a log shifting in the fireplace was like a bone snapping. I felt the air in my lungs turn to lead. I didn't blink. I didn't twitch. I stayed frozen in the half-step I had taken toward the hallway, my fingers still
(Kai POV)"Why was I called here," I said.I didn't lead into it. I didn't soften the edges. Darius didn't lift his head. He picked up a small brass compass and set it over the Varden coordinates, the metal legs scratching a faint, circular groove into the paper."Stability is a difficult thing to build, Kai," he said. He spoke to the map, his voice a low, gravelly vibration. "It takes decades to lay the foundation. You have to account for the soil, the weight of the stone, the way the wind hits the spires. But it only takes one person deciding they don't like the color of the curtains to pull the whole thing down.""I'm not interested in the architecture," I said. I stood up, my chair legs barking against the wood floor. I walked to the fireplace, the heat hitting my shins, and kicked a loose piece of kindling back into the embers. "You spent twenty minutes circling a ridge that is currently empty. You spent five minutes talking about en







