Theron POV
The moment the pulse settled, I knew the fortress would not survive the night if I made one wrong move.
Elara was awake. Barely. Sitting against Mira's pillows, shaking like someone had pulled her out of a river. Her skin looked too pale, her breaths too thin, her eyes glass-soft and searching for something she couldn't name yet.
But she was alive.
For now.
The guards outside didn't care about that.
They cared about the bodies from earlier — the scorch marks, the echo in the stones, the shockwave that had dropped two men mid-step. They cared about fear. Fear always spoke louder than fact.
"Theron!" a voice shouted from the hallway. "Open the door!"
Another voice overlapped it. "She shouldn't be there— she's dangerous—"
A third. "My king— please— step away from her!"
My jaw clenched. Hard.
I looked at Elara first. Always her first.
She tried to sit up, and her arm trembled. She hid it, but I saw. Mira saw. Kaelen saw.
