The tremor did not fade.
It spread.
Slow at first—like a distant echo through the bones of the sea—but then stronger, deeper, more deliberate. The palace walls groaned, ancient coral structures humming as if something vast brushed against the very foundation of the ocean itself.
Silence crushed the Council chamber.
Not the silence of control.
The silence of fear.
Aerin felt it coil through her body, brushing past the warmth within her and settling like ice beneath it.
This was not the Tidemother.
This was something else.
Something older.
Something that had waited too long.
Noctyrr's hand found hers instantly, gripping tight—not restraining, but anchoring.
"Stay with us," he murmured.
"I'm not going anywhere," she whispered back, though her gaze had already dropped toward the floor as if she could see through layers of stone and water into the abyss below.
Caelum stepped forward, placing himself slightly ahead of them both, his posture calm but unmistakably defensive.
