TYLER'S POV
Tyler didn't know what woke him. The commotion outside or Drake's insistent prodding.
He eyes snapped open and he sat up, ramrod straight and ready, so suddenly that his step brother stumbled back.
For a moment, he remained still, his ears filling with the murmurs of an agitated mob nearby. He glared at the disturbance in his room.
"What's happening?"
Drake took a moment to recover. Weak, not an iota of backbone to him. Their father's greatest dissapointment. He was still the whimpering boy their father dragged home eighteen years ago, no explanation whatsoever. The boy's appearance said enough.
His eyes stared at the floor, occasionally peeking up to assess Tyler's face. "Sorry for waking you, but he's at it again."
Tyler bristled, already forming a hunch. "Father?"
Drake nodded. "Warriors caught two of Kallum's men late last night. Father called a gathering—"
