The forest was still trembling.
The echo of the Ancient Tiger's words hung in the air, heavy as a death sentence, glowing like a prophecy that no one alive wanted to hear.
Amaya felt the world rotating around her too fast, spinning, collapsing and expanding at once. She clung to Leo's shirt, her fingers weak, her breaths shallow.
"What… do you mean?" she whispered.
Leo tightened his hold on her, his voice shaking with a mix of anger and fear.
"Explain. Now."
The Ancient Tiger stood up slowly. His silhouette looked carved from starlight and storms, a creature too old for mortal comprehension. His violet eyes glowed faintly as he studied Amaya—not with disgust, not with awe, but with a strange mix of recognition and dread.
He was afraid.
Of her.
That alone made Leo bristle.
"No one fears my mate," Leo growled.
"She is not simply your mate," the Ancient answered calmly, "and that is what makes her dangerous… to everyone, including you."
