The journey to Draco had begun under a sky heavy with storm clouds.
Alexander rode at the head of the column without speaking.
The wind pulled at the dark cloak draped across his shoulders as the horses thundered across the open road. Behind him rode Draco's elite guard, their armor gleaming beneath the pale morning light.
No one dared disturb him.
Not because they feared his temper.
Though they did.
Not because he was their king.
Though he was.
But because something about him felt different.
Dangerously different.
The journey had only been underway for two days, yet Alexander's silence had become more oppressive with every passing hour.
Even the soldiers could feel it.
The tension.
The pressure.
The strange atmosphere that seemed to follow him wherever he went.
Viktor rode beside him for several minutes before finally speaking.
"The Oracle's summons must be serious."
Alexander's gaze never left the road ahead.
"It is."
Viktor frowned.
