Opal's POV
The room was quieter than it had ever been.
And that was saying something, considering Forrest was present and hadn't made a single inappropriate comment in five whole minutes. That had to be a record.
Opal sat at the head of the long table in the packhouse conference room, her brothers surrounding her. Ash to her right—arms crossed, jaw tight, eyes like steel. Ridge, Brooks, and Forrest filled the rest of the seats. Serephina sat close beside Ash, her presence grounding him. Nyx was leaning forward on the other side, flipping pages in one of her ancient books, her amber eyes serious beneath the candlelight. Scanning the pages for hope.
Kael stood near the window, silent but present, his eyes never straying far from Opal.
Opal cleared her throat.
"Okay. No more sugarcoating. I need the truth." Her voice was firm despite the unease simmering under her skin. "How much time do I have before Azeala makes her move again?"
Nyx closed the book with a soft thud.
