The night sky outside the estate was painted in hues of deep indigo and shimmering silver. Athena sat in the study, her fingers cold against the smooth surface of her optical tablet.
The message from her brother still hovered on the screen.
[Mother was caught in an explosion. She's stable but shaken. A young woman saved her. The incident wasn't random. Stay alert.]
Her heart raced. Her mother was strong, an unyielding woman who had survived wars and political intrigue, but an explosion?
Athena's thoughts spiraled as dread knotted in her chest. The attack could only mean one thing, the shadows of the past were stirring again.
Footsteps approached, slow and measured. She didn't have to look to know who it was. Mors.
"You're trembling," his voice came softly from behind.
Athena clenched her fists and turned toward him.
The warm glow of the desk lamp cast shadows across his face, highlighting the sharp cut of his jaw and the glint of concern in his eyes.
