I stood in our makeshift headquarters, watching Kaelen strap the tactical vest over his chest. Each piece of armor he added seemed like another wall erecting between us. The dim lights cast shadows across his face, making his sharp features look even more severe. I'd seen him prepare for battles before, but something about tonight's mission twisted my stomach into knots.
"Let me come with you," I said, my voice quiet but firm. "My powers could help."
Kaelen paused, his green eyes finding mine. "Sera, we've discussed this. You need to stay with Rhys."
"Rhys has plenty of protection here. But you—"
"I'll have an entire tactical team," he cut in, his tone gentle but unyielding. "This is what I'm trained for."
I bit my lip, frustration coursing through me. "But Malakor is different. He's not just after power like Valerius was. He's been orchestrating this for centuries, Kaelen. He's my uncle, and he's targeted our son specifically."
