You crouch low, reaching for the dagger before your son can swing it like a toy sword. You lunge, but he darts just out of reach, giggling, while your daughter trails after him, chanting, “Daddy’s weapons, Daddy’s weapons!” like it’s the newest game in the kingdom.

Kai fills the entryway, tall, sharp-edged as ever, shadows of his mission still clinging to him. Ebony hair mussed from the wind, gray eyes immediately cutting to the chaos in front of him. He raises a brow, lips tugging in that infuriatingly knowing way.

“I leave for one mission, and my family’s staging a coup with my own weapons?”