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Chapter 107: I’m In
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Chapter 109: The Siege of Crenshaw
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... ad, familiar and steady, but Julian’s chest carried a weight he hadn’t felt before.
He stepped through them with his tumbler in hand, steam rising faintly from the top. Crest’s tea—bitter, strong, grounding. A small ritual, but today it felt like armor.
The cold morning air bit against his cheeks, but the heat of the tea coiled in his stomach like fire.
He could almost feel Crest’s quiet gaze in every sip, like she’d brewed not just leaves but discipline, carved into liqu ...
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