No sender. No trace header. No origin tag. Nothing to indicate where it had come from or how it had breached a line it should never have touched.
Only text. Cold. Immediate. As though whoever had sent it knew explanation was unnecessary.
His eyes moved once across the words. Then stilled.
Marcus saw something change in his face. Not enough to call it shock. But enough to make his own pulse sharpen.
"Alpha?"
Thessian did not answer. Instead, without a word, he turned the screen outward. Showed them.
Marcus stepped in first. Read. And the blood seemed to leave his face.
The nearest guards leaned close enough to catch the words.
Come to Virelia Kingdom. Alone. No escorts. No council. No trackers. If anyone follows you, the child dies first. You have until moonrise.
And beneath the message, a sigil. Black. Angular. Ancient-looking. Like a mark burned into the screen rather than written.
