Just as Isabella turned, about to snap at him again, Zyran suddenly pulled her close—tight.
One arm locked around her waist while the other cradled the back of her head, guiding it firmly to his chest. She barely had a second to flinch before she was fully engulfed by him—warm, solid, and annoyingly… comforting?
"Zy—"
"Shh," he whispered, lips brushing her ear, his voice low and deliberate. "I promised the lion I'd protect you, love. How could I possibly let you go?"
His tone was softer than usual. Too soft. Distractingly soft.
Meanwhile, his left hand moved discreetly behind her, fingers sparking with invisible magic—raw, clean, and eerily quiet. A pulse of light rippled behind her, followed by the faintest hissss, like air being sucked out of the universe. Something had just been… erased.
Isabella's brow twitched.
There was no blood, no blast, no screaming. Just… silence. Too silent.
