Three weeks until the march.
Liam woke to pounding on his door at an hour that suggested emergency rather than routine military business.
"My lord!" The voice was Kael'thra's, strained with urgency. "The Fourth Order requires your immediate presence. It's about House Morwen."
He was dressed and moving before fully processing the words, his combat instincts overriding the grogginess. Whatever had happened was serious enough to bring the Fourth Order's commander to his quarters personally rather than sending a messenger.
That meant crisis.
Kael'thra led him through pre-dawn streets at pace that was almost running. No explanation offered, just grim determination that made Liam's stomach twist with anticipation of bad news.
They arrived at the Fourth Order's warehouse to find it transformed into active command center.
Warriors moving with purpose, intelligence reports being compiled, and in the center of controlled chaos—
