Kerrigan stirred first, waking to the soft morning light filtering through the heavy curtains of her old room at the Lokir Estate. She blinked, momentarily disoriented, before remembering where she was. Conor’s arm was draped protectively around her, holding her against his chest, his steady breathing warm against her neck. The events of the past days weighed heavily on her, but for this brief, quiet moment, she allowed herself to feel safe.Conor’s eyes fluttered open as she shifted slightly. He smiled sleepily, his thumb brushing gently down her arm and against her hip. “Mornin,” he whispered, his voice tinged with a mix of exhaustion and tenderness.Kerrigan turned to face him, her fingers tracing the faint scars on his cheek. He was healing well, and soon, there would be little sign of their short time in the mines.“Good morning,” she replied, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his lips. It was a simple gesture, but one that spoke of shared battles, unspoken fears, and the solace
“Kelan Benedict has been spotted in Velyki,” Eli announced, setting the letter down on the table. “He’s moving fast, trying to shift the narrative. From what we’ve gathered, he’s trying to blame Zadok’s death on you, Kerrigan, and he’s positioning himself to seize control of Dragon Corporation.”Kerrigan’s face tightened, anger simmering just below the surface. “He’s trying to take everything we’ve worked for,” she said, her voice filled with barely restrained fury.Conor placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “We’ll deal with him. But we need to be smart about it. We can’t just rush in.”Nuri’s voice crackled through the speakers. “We have strong cases against Kelan already—the Spice lawsuit and the abuse of interns. Those are solid charges with indisputable evidence. If we can destabilize his position publicly, it will weaken his influence.”Reilynn leaned forward, her tone serious. “It might also be time to publicly announce that you and Conor are Deinmaar, the guardians of the
Conor woke early, the soft light of dawn filtering through the heavy curtains of Kerrigan’s room. For a moment, he simply lay there, savoring the quiet comfort of holding her close. Her breathing was slow and steady, her face relaxed in peaceful sleep.He brushed a stray lock of hair from her cheek, feeling the warmth of her skin, and for a time, he allowed himself this small moment of peace.But the moment was fleeting. The weight of their situation pressed against his chest, reminding him of the responsibilities that waited beyond the safety of this room. He carefully slipped his arm from under Kerrigan and eased out of bed, trying not to disturb her.She mumbled something softly in her sleep, but did not wake, and Conor couldn’t help but smile. Even now, she was the strongest person he knew.He dressed quickly, pulling on the spare clothes that had been laid out for him—a simple shirt and trousers that were serviceable but hardly befitting the man who would soon be claiming his moth
Shaping the NarrativeThe morning sun streamed through the tall windows of the Lokir Estate, filling the war room with warm, golden light when Kerrigan finally entered.Conor stood near the head of the table, feeling the weight of the decisions that were about to shape his future and the futures of everyone who had fought beside him.As he prepared for the upcoming press conference, he felt the faint but growing presence of Celia, her power still weak but guiding him with the occasional whispered thought.Kerrigan walked up to him, and playfully slapped his arm, her face a mask of forced anger. “You scared me.” She whispered.He looked down at her, concerned and confused.“I woke up and you were gone… I don’t like that.” She said, before her false anger broke and she stood on her tip toes and kissed him, dispelling any lingering hostility.“I will keep that in mind, my lady,” Conor said. While the words sounded strange at first, and from anyone else would be a formal statement, for Co
The sun dipped low over the horizon, casting a warm, golden glow across the lake behind the Lokir Estate. The waters, usually calm and reflective, seemed to shimmer with the vibrant hues of orange, pink, and purple, painting a serene yet somber backdrop for the evening's ceremony. Tonight, the air was thick with unspoken grief, the weight of loss pressing heavily upon the gathered company.A small, solemn group had assembled on the expansive lawn that stretched to the lake’s edge. The dragoons stood in formation, their faces etched with the silent sorrow that came from losing one of their own. The soldiers of Targu’s provincial army, stationed at a respectful distance, stood at attention, their rigid posture a testament to their respect for the fallen. Even the wind seemed to hold its breath, allowing only the soft rustling of leaves to break the stillness.At the center of the gathering, a simple wooden stand held a single framed photo of Gabriella. There were no remains to bury, no b
Kerrigan woke slowly, wrapped in the warmth of Conor’s embrace. His arms were strong and secure around her, offering a comfort she hadn’t known she needed until recently.She shifted slightly, her head resting against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. For a brief moment, the troubles of the world outside their room felt distant and unimportant.Conor stirred beside her, his eyes fluttering open. He smiled softly, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. “Morning,” he murmured, his voice still thick with sleep.Kerrigan looked up at him, her emerald eyes bright in the early morning light. “Morning.” She took a deep breath, savoring the quiet moment. “Are you ready for your announcement today?”Conor hesitated, his brow furrowing as he stirred to full consciousness. He turned his gaze toward the window, where the sun was just beginning to cast its light over the estate grounds.“I don’t know,” he admitted after a pause. “Not really. Speaking to crowds… it’s
Conor stood at the podium, feeling the weight of his mother’s legacy settle on his shoulders.The room buzzed with anticipation, reporters and journalists filling every available space, cameras clicking and lights flashed as they jostled for the best angle, eager to capture the moment.Each was ready to capture every word, every expression, knowing this would be a moment the whole kingdom would want to know about.It had been over a decade since any news had come from Lokir estate and it promised to be world shattering.Conor took a deep breath, slow and deliberate, remembering Aileana’s advice: intentional speech, steady breath, command your voice.Conor exhaled slowly, grounding himself as he began to speak. “Good morning, and thank you all for being here today,” Conor started, his voice calm steady and resonant, carrying the weight of his conviction.“I am Conor Brantley, son of Priestess Rainna, and the current CEO of Vokrizin. Today, I stand before you not just as her son but as
She wore an ensemble crafted with Zelgan Dries’s impeccable touch to match Conor’s own —a deep green cape representing Abraxas draped over her shoulder as a powerful nod to her role as his priestess.The cape contrasted beautifully with the intricate blues and golds of her attire. The fabric shimmered with every step, reflecting the light as if it held the very essence of her dragon’s power.It was a seamless blend of their respective powers. She was radiant, a commanding presence of her own, and yet her expression was soft, her eyes meeting his with unspoken support.Kerrigan strode confidently down the aisle, her gaze locked on Conor as she made her way to the podium.Conor’s heart swelled as she approached, her every movement filled with grace and purpose.The room turned to watch, a collective intake of breath as Kerrigan reached the podium and stood side by side with Conor in a display of unity and purpose, claiming her place at his side.She turned to face the press, her posture