Anthony’s POV
The night was unnaturally still, the kind of silence that creeps up on you and makes the hair on the back of your neck stand on end. I glanced at Elara, who was walking a few steps ahead, her small frame illuminated by the soft silver light of the moon. She was trying to put on a brave face, but I could see the doubt gnawing at her. It was in the way her shoulders slumped just slightly, the way her head dropped as though the weight of her thoughts was too heavy to carry.
She didn’t believe in herself. Not yet.
But I did.
I had seen what she couldn’t—the strength beneath the fear, the resilience hidden behind those haunted eyes. Every bruise from our training, every drop of sweat, it was all proof that she was stronger than she realized. And it wasn’t just about the magic
