The ruins trembled, a low hum vibrating through the stone beneath Selene’s feet. The air felt charged, thick with tension, thick with magic—as if the past itself was watching, waiting for them to decide how this would end. But Selene wasn’t thinking about the ruins anymore.
She was thinking about the knife that had been at her throat.
Nyra.
Ronan still had her pinned against the wall, his muscles locked in tension, his eyes sharp and unrelenting.
But Nyra… Nyra looked unbothered.
Even with his arm pressing against her throat, even with the fury in his gaze, she just smiled.
Selene took a step closer, her own heartbeat too loud in her ears.
“Why?” Her voice was quiet, but it carried through the chamber. “Why betray us now?”
Nyra let out a soft, mocking sigh as she tilted her head,
