POV: Ayla

The letter feels like a heavy, suffocating weight in my hand. I do not open it right away. Instead I cross the hallway on silent bare feet and shove the envelope toward Caius. He stands by his desk scrolling through a digital map of the compound perimeter.

Caius looks down at the parchment without touching it. He leans closer. His eyes narrow as he studies the crimson wax seal. It looks crude. A messy, hurried imitation of a crest that was once sharp and deliberate.

“It has been compromised,” Caius says. His voice drops into that lethal low register that makes the air feel brittle.

“Someone has read...