Eira's pov
The note was waiting for me when I returned from the eastern perimeter check.
Slipped beneath my door like a snake coiling just out of sight.
No seal. No signature. Just a scrap of old ledger paper with one line scrawled across it in uneven strokes:
"Next time, Draven won't find you in time."
I stared at it, heart thudding once,loud, sharp,then steadied my breath. I turned it over, checked for hidden codes, watermarks, anything. Nothing. Just ink and venom.
I should've gone straight to Draven. Told him. Let him deal with it.
But I didn't.
Because I already knew what he'd do,tighten the guards, move me again, put more people in harm's way just to keep me breathing. He'd treat me like glass, again.
I was tired of being that version of myself.
So I folded the note and tucked it into the lining of my boot. A reminder. A quiet war I'd fight on my own terms.
