Evander's POV
The moment I stepped into the room, the air changed.
Mara froze first. Her breath hitched, shoulders going rigid as if my presence alone had weighed down her spine. Her eyes darted up, just long enough to confirm what she already feared, before dropping instantly to the floor. Submission came naturally to her kind—it was written in the blood, a reflex born of knowing what power could do when crossed.
But even through her fear, I saw something else. Guilt.
And then there was Odette.
She didn't bow. She didn't look away. She couldn't, of course—not with those clouded, sightless eyes—but somehow, she still met me. The way her head tilted toward the sound of my voice, the way her chin lifted slightly, it was as though she could sense exactly where I was.
And then, quietly, instinctively, she reached for Mara's hand.
The gesture was small, human, but it carried meaning. Protection. Comfort. Fear.
Fear of me.
