Aria couldn't feel her hands.
Her whole body buzzed with shock, fear, and disbelief—all layered over the rising, unsettling truth that Damien's presence calmed her even when everything else crumbled.
Someone wanted her dead.
Dead.
Not returned.
Not punished.
Dead.
Her wolf whimpered faintly inside her, not fully awakened but jolted enough to make her heart race harder.
Damien didn't flinch.
He didn't panic.
He didn't even blink twice.
He simply crushed the note into dust between his fingers and turned to the guard.
"Who delivered it?" he asked.
The guard swallowed. "No one we saw. It was tied to the main gate with silver thread."
Aria tensed. "Silver?"
Damien's voice darkened. "A warning. And an insult."
Liora's face drained of color. "Silver means intent to harm. It's symbolic."
"It's a threat," Damien corrected. "A coward's threat."
He looked at Aria.
Not with pity.
Not with worry.
With razor-sharp assessment.
