The faint glow of the communication panel illuminated Elara's pale face as she sat alone in her dimly lit villa.
Her fingers trembled slightly as she held the encrypted communicator to her ear, her heart racing with dread.
The message from her contact within the Black Talons echoed in her mind. [The crown prince has issued a direct order. Lady Athena is the primary target. We must act quickly.]
Elara's throat tightened. The Black Talons were Zyvander's most feared covert force, ruthless and efficient. If they'd been mobilized, time was already running out.
She inhaled deeply, steadying herself, and pressed the secure-call button. A soft chime rang before the familiar voice answered.
"Elara?" Mors's voice came through, laced with tension.
"Brother," she whispered, gripping the communicator tighter. "We have a problem. A big one."
Mors remained silent for a second too long. "The Black Talons?"
