Draven.
Sleep had never come easily, but last night, it refused me entirely.
Two hours, maybe less—that was all I managed after I sent Dennis and Jeffery inside. The rest of the night, I spent seated at my desk, pen in hand, staring at maps, names, and possible leads.
Trying to think ten steps ahead of the humans, and five ahead of the vampires.
This was the weight a leader shouldered: the burden of staying awake so the others could sleep.
But by dawn, the air in my study felt stifling. My thoughts, once sharp, had grown restless and heavy, like a blade dulled by too much whetstone.
I needed to move.
I rose from my desk, pulling a black polo from the back of the sofa and slipping it over my shoulders.
Without another thought, I stepped out into the corridor, past the portraits and silent halls, and walked outside into the early morning chill.
The stone steps were still cold from the night, dew gathering along the edges. The sky was just starting to pale.
