Mara’s POV
The aftermath doesn’t arrive all at once.
It seeps in—through looks held a second too long, through messages that don’t ask questions but wait for permission, through the quiet understanding that something has shifted and
cannot be shifted back.
The gathering wasn’t an alliance.
That’s what unsettles everyone.
No oaths.
No declarations.
No hierarchy.
Just people who came, listened, and left knowing where I stood.
And knowing I didn’t claim them.
That makes me dangerous in a way power never could.
I feel it the moment I step back into the house.
Not tension—attention.
Marcus is already inside, standing near the windows with a tablet in hand. He looks up when we enter, relief flashing across his face before professionalism snaps back into place.
“They’re talking,”
