The Fae council chamber glittered with cold light—crystal columns soaring into a vaulted ceiling veined with silver spellwork. Along the floor, shallow pools shimmered like captured starlight. The old ones called them Glitter Pools—mirrors of vow and memory.
Lou’s heavy steps echoed beside me as we crossed the threshold. The Dragon’s Heart Stone throbbed against my sternum, orange-cream glow casting warm fire across the marble. Dozens of eyes followed it. Some widened with awe. Others narrowed, sharp with suspicion—and sharper with envy.
“She carries it openly,” an elder hissed.
“And look who shadows her,” another sneered, chin tipping toward Lou. “Dragon. King. Blasphemy wrapped in gold.”
Heat rolled off Lou, smoke curling from his lips. He said nothing—but Tan paced behind his eyes.
