The heavy doors creaked open.
I stepped forward, the golden threads of my ceremonial robe glinting beneath the torches that lined the grand hall. My heart beat a slow, steady rhythm, but my spine was straight. My feet didn’t tremble.
Not anymore.
“Lena of the Crescent Moon,” the elder announced, his voice echoing. “Daughter of Ava. Marked by fate. Chosen by her people.”
I walked down the aisle. Familiar faces blurred on either side—warriors, elders, healers, farmers. Some watched with pride. Some with doubt. I didn’t care. They would see.
Elias waited at the end, standing tall in dark armor that made his eyes look sharper, colder, like carved ice. But the moment his gaze met mine, it softened. The corner of his lips lifted—not a full smile, but enough to make my chest flutter.
I stop
