Warmth washed through Amaya's body long before consciousness returned.
Not light.
Not sound.
Warmth.
A steady, strong warmth wrapped around her like she was being held—protected—shielded from something far more terrifying than the darkness she'd fallen into. The warmth pulsed to the rhythm of a heartbeat.
A slow. Heavy. Violent one.
Not hers.
She opened her eyes.
The world was blurred at first, shapes merging into glowing streaks. But as her vision sharpened, she realized she was lying on a bed of soft moss beneath the glowing waterfalls of the ruins.
And Leo—
Leo was sitting beside her.
Back turned.
Head bowed.
Shoulders trembling.
"Leo…?" she whispered.
He froze.
Not a breath. Not a blink. Not a muscle.
Just stillness.
Then he slowly turned toward her.
And her heart stuttered.
Leo's eyes weren't his usual silver-blue.
They glowed.
Pure white.
No pupils.
No softness.
No restraint.
White fire swirled behind his irises like a storm barely caged.
