People noticed when the four of them arrived—eyes widening, whispers rippling through the market square. It wasn't every day that the hybrids of the Obsidian Sanctum descended from their hidden estate to mingle with mortals.
"Morning," Samantha called, keeping her tone bright. "No one's panicking yet, right?"
A few strained chuckles met her words, which was better than silence.
They moved through the crowd, each taking a subtle role: Marcus speaking with the town leaders, his measured charm steadying them; Callum coordinating the witches fortifying the perimeter; Kai hauling crates and tossing jokes to keep spirits high; and Samantha somewhere in the middle, bridging the spaces between them all.
She paused at a stall where an elderly woman was stitching protective sigils into cloth. "Those look beautiful," Samantha said.
The woman's hands trembled slightly. "If beauty's all that keeps the monsters away, then so be it."
