Lucas shrugged. "No. But my guess? He's slithering somewhere in the palace. And just so you know," Lucas added casually, "and I don't really care if you're okay with it—I'm going to kill your father with my own two hands."
Kade knew.
He knew that if Lucas got his hands on Dorian, there would be no trial, no justice, no redemption. Only blood. Only an ending.
His father had created a web of lies, betrayals, and violence so foul there was no coming back from it. No apology could cleanse what he had done.
And Kade, despite everything, still bore the ugly scars of being his son.
*****
He hit the polished marble floor hard enough to make his bones rattle, but before the guards could even smirk at their handiwork, he was already on his feet. His shoulders squared, his chin lifted in stubborn defiance, and he locked eyes with the king, daring Herod to try him.
The room was deathly silent. Even the guards shifted nervously at the raw fury radiating from him.
