---
The next few days did not pass. They tightened.
That was the first truth Sekhmet learned as the auction drew closer. Time did not move the same way when a deadline sat in front of him like a blade on a table. Every morning began too early. Every night ended too late. Between them, the hours filled so quickly that he barely noticed when one day ended and the next had already begun.
On the first morning after the bloodlust warning, Sekhmet woke with his jaw clenched.
Not from pain.
From the memory of the system's words.
Fifty percent.
He lay still for a moment, staring at the ceiling while the early light crawled slowly across the upper corner of the room. Dawn House was quiet at this hour, the kind of quiet that lasted only a few breaths before servants and chores and voices began moving through the halls.
