*Isla*

Seth’s golden eyes linger on Isaac, his face void of expression. He gave us the expected spirited congratulations, of course, going on and on about the prince born during battle.

But his eyes had given away his true feelings, even if I was the only one who noticed it.

Trinity, on the other hand, lingers in the corner of Maddox’s office, pretending to be invested in the books on the shelves lining the far wall.

What is going on with these two, and most importantly, why?

“Seth,” Maddox says, looking up from the map he has sprawled out on his desk. “I need to speak to you privately.”

Seth...