The great doors groaned open as Kael thundered towards them.
The wards themselves seemed to recognize his fury, parting in silence to let the Dragon Lord pass with his fragile cargo.
The silence that followed him was absolute.
No one dared breathe until the heavy slam of the doors echoed back, final and sharp like a seal being struck.
Only then did the hall exhale.
It was a ragged, terrified sound—dozens of dragons dragging in breaths they hadn't realized they were holding. The air still trembled, thick with the remnants of power that had pressed into their very bones.
Lady Cirila stirred first. She pressed a hand against her chest, pale features taut, wings trembling like she had nearly collapsed. Her lips moved silently, as though in prayer—or perhaps sheer disbelief.
