AIDEN'S POV
The crown had never felt heavier than it did tonight. Not the physical weight of gold and jewels that sat on my father's brow during audiences, but the invisible one I carried every second since the Wraith first wore Nalia's face. Thirty-three days into this fragile truce, and the palace had become a battlefield of mirrors. Every glance in polished silver, every echo in empty corridors, every soft footfall behind me made my hand drift toward my sword. I could feel the bond roaring through me, golden and fierce, Nalia's presence a constant flame in my chest—but the flame flickered now, uncertain, because the thing that hunted us had learned to wear his light like stolen armor.
