Marcus barely slept. The night had stretched long, his mind restless, thoughts tangled in possibilities and fears. By the time the first hints of dawn crept through the curtains, he was already dressed, sitting near the window, watching the sky shift from deep blue to pale gold.
He had waited years for this moment. Now that it was here, a strange weight settled over his chest. Anticipation. Fear. Guilt.
The others had been through enough already. He didn't want to burden them further. It would be easier—cleaner—if he went alone. But he knew Isabella. She wouldn't allow it.
The house remained quiet. Thirty minutes passed before the sound of footsteps echoed from the stairs. Marcus turned as Liam appeared, stretching slightly, his hair still tousled from sleep.
"Couldn't sleep?" Liam's voice held its usual lightness, but his sharp gaze missed nothing.
Marcus gave a small, wry smile. "Didn't try."
