"It is not the blade that binds a kingdom, but the lies men are willing to sharpen into chains."
3RD POV
The dungeon was darker than most men could endure. But Commander Tovik had long ago made peace with shadows. He had been born in them, forged by them, and if he were destined to die anywhere, it would be here, among the echoes of screams that had never truly faded. His boots clicked against the damp stone floor as he moved deeper, torchlight clawing at walls slick with mildew. The scent was always the same: rusted iron, wet earth, and the copper tang of blood that refused to wash away. Tonight, though, there was something else beneath it. That scent is impossible to mistake, even after years of trying to bury it, the damn female omega.
