The clearing had already gone silent.
Not because of fear. Not because of tension.
But because every beast, every leaf, every breath of wind seemed to kneel the moment she appeared.
The Sovereign stepped forward as though she were walking across the surface of a still lake—her feet not quite touching the ground, her movements too smooth, too graceful to be human.
Her long silver hair flowed behind her like moonlit water, shimmering with threads of pale gold. Her eyes—soft, warm, honey-amber—sparkled as though she'd been waiting for this moment for centuries.
And she smiled.
A gentle smile.
Beautiful.
Welcoming.
A smile that promised safety while whispering ruin.
Amaya felt Leo shift beside her, the muscles in his arm tightening instinctively. He stood in his tiger form, massive and glowing with white fire, yet even he took one small step backward.
Not out of fear.
Out of instinct.
Out of respect.
Out of danger sensed too late.
