Winter/Sylthara~
"In a month," Vaelthor said, his voice folded into the shadows, calm as a blade and twice as certain. "We take the Lycan King and Queen — the ones who broke our mother's life into splinters. We take Sebastian and Cassandra, too. We strike the heart, burn the map, and then we leave this palace behind for good. We vanish from the shadows that have hunted us since we were children and build something that's ours."
The words landed like a stone in still water — but the pond was deeper than I remembered. My breath snagged. For a second the garden itself seemed to tilt, a private planet thrown off its axis.
This wasn't a plan. It wasn't a scheme neatly folded over a cup of tea. It was a challenge hurled at fate's face — reckless, brilliant, and gleefully suicidal. Vaelthor didn't propose an idea so much as summon ruin with a whisper.
