Chapter 5

Aurelia POV

The heavy oak door slammed shut, the deadbolt clicking home like the hammer of a rifle.

In the dim light of Talia’s cottage, the ticking of the mantelpiece clock sounded unnaturally loud. Every stroke cut away another fraction of precious daylight. Outside, the harsh reality of war echoed through the floorboards—boots crunching over gravel, the heavy thud of ammo crates being dragged onto the porch, and Ronan shouting orders to lock down the ridge.

Cassian stood braced against the doorframe, his colossal shoulders blocking out the narrow strip of sunlight filtering through the hall. His tactical vest was strapped tight, his knuckles white as he rested his hand near his sidearm. His dark-blue eyes locked onto me, heavy with the weight of an Alpha facing total destruction.

“They aren’t pulling back,” Cassian said, his voice dropping into a low, gravelly register that vibrated straight through the floorboards.

He took one slow, deliberat