The cold morning air carried the scent of damp stone as Damien walked through the halls of Winter's Crown. The unsigned letter weighed heavily in his coat pocket, its cryptic warning replaying in his mind. Whoever had sent it knew him—knew his plans and his vulnerabilities. It wasn't a simple act of intimidation; it was a calculated move, meant to unnerve him.
Amara caught up with him as he entered the war room, her sharp blue eyes narrowing. "You've been unusually quiet this morning. Care to share what's on your mind?"
Damien handed her the letter, watching as her eyes scanned the text. Her expression hardened, the faint smirk fading from her lips.
"This isn't just some random threat," she said, her voice low. "It's personal. Whoever wrote this knows exactly how to get under your skin."