"Command is not courage. It is the quiet damnation of choosing who must stand, who must fall, and pretending it is strategy instead of grief."
MARCUS'S POV
The shrieking, tearing sound of the South Gate beginning to buckle was the loudest thing I had ever heard a horrific blend of groaning metal and splintering wood that signaled not just an attack, but a breach. My heart hammered against my ribs, echoing the panicked rhythm of the Keep's dying defences. The scent of ozone and aggressive, unwashed Wolf Shifters was now thick and coppery, confirming the enemy was right outside the walls.
Chaos threatened to engulf the War Room. Lord Ostel was still straining, sweat pouring from his brow, as he fed the Elemental Anchor at the gate, drawing energy from the Keep's deep foundations. Luna Seraphine was pale but standing, her focus rigid. But the younger staff Taemin and Nyra, were openly terrified, their hands hovering over consoles that screamed red warnings.
