The Ashen Keep was quiet at this hour.
Most of the hunters were either sleeping or out on missions. The training yards were empty. The armory was locked. Only the administrative wing still had lights on, and even those were dim, casting long shadows across the polished floors.
Alistair sat in his office, staring at the message on his screen.
It had come through the encrypted channel—the one reserved for direct communication from the High Flame Council. No name. No signature. Just a line of text, stark and cold against the dark background.
Observe the Vale boy closely. Report unusual activity.
He read it three times.
The first time, his stomach tightened. The second time, his jaw clenched. The third time, he felt something hot rise in his chest—anger, sharp and bitter, the kind he thought he'd buried years ago.
They wanted him to spy on his own team.
On Lucian.
