Aya's POV
I want to cover for my mate.
I want to say something—anything—that will redirect Elder Odin’s attention away from Johanis, away from the impossible blue fire, away from the truth sitting in my chest like a live wire.
But I don’t know what on earth my response is supposed to be. So I just shake my head.
Once.
Twice.
A silent, helpless motion—back and forth—like a child who’s reached the edge of language and found nothing there. For a moment, the elder only watches me. Not impatient. Not disapproving. Just… assessing. As if my lack of an answer is an answer in itself.
“Hm,” he murmurs. The sound is neither gentle nor cruel. Just old. Heavy with centuries of having seen this before—whatever this is.
“As I suspected,” he says quietly. My stomach drops at his comment.
“I don
