(Damien POV)
The eastern border patrol report came at dawn.
A young scout burst into the bailey, breathing hard, eyes wide with unease rather than outright fear.
"Shadow creatures, my lord. Small twisted wolves. They appeared from the tree line near the old watchtower. Not many — maybe a dozen — but they feel… wrong."
I was already moving before he finished speaking. Elias, my ten-year-old son, fell into step beside me without being asked. He had taken to shadowing me during border checks lately, his small frame buzzing with the same protective energy I once carried.
"Stay close," I told him. "Observe first. Act second."
He nodded, silver eyes serious. The faint glow beneath his skin pulsed steadily, a perfect miniature of Nova's light mixed with my tempered shadow.
