Across the palace, three phones buzzed at once.
Killian froze mid-stride in the upper corridor, eyes narrowing at the flashing red priority alert across his screen. Rowan, stationed near the east stairwell, almost dropped the stack of security reports in his hands. Andrew Sink stopped walking entirely, muttering something that sounded suspiciously like a prayer.
The alert read:
ROYAL WING: LOCKDOWN INITIATED.
REASON: KING ENTERING RUT – MATE PRESENT.
DURATION ESTIMATE: 5–7 DAYS.
PROTOCOL: FULL SEAL, LEVEL IV.
Rowan stared at it for two long seconds.
Then he muttered, "Oh for f—"
Rowan muttered a string of curses as he diverted power to the wing's automated doors, watching each one slam shut one by one with a metallic hiss. Guards sprinted to stations. Security cams locked into a restricted loop. The palace wing was officially sealed.
Andrew cut him a look. "Focus."
"I am focusing," Rowan snapped. "I'm focusing on not imagining whatever is happening in that bed right now."
