Liam Blackwood had never knelt before anyone.
Not to his father.
Not to the Council.
Not even to fate.
But the moment he crossed the outer boundary of Damien's territory and felt it press against his bones like judgment itself, his knees nearly buckled.
This land knew Aria now.
It recognized her.
And it rejected him.
He swallowed hard, forcing himself upright as guards closed in, weapons ready but restrained. Their eyes weren't hostile.
They were assessing.
Like predators deciding whether he was worth the effort.
"I'm here to see Aria Hale," Liam said, keeping his voice steady. "I request an audience."
A pause.
Then laughter.
One guard tilted his head. "You don't request her."
Liam stiffened. "Excuse me?"
"You wait," the guard corrected coolly. "If she decides you're worth seeing."
The words burned.
This was not how it was supposed to go.
