The enforcers hesitate, their bodies tense, their instincts screaming at them to act.
I can smell their uncertainty, hear the quickened pace of their hearts.
Caspian stands firm. “Get back to patrolling,” he orders, his voice cold and commanding. “I’ll handle this.”
One of them, a broad-shouldered man with a scar down his cheek, hesitates. “Your Highness, she—”
“I said I’ll handle it.”
That’s all it takes.
With reluctant nods, the enforcers bow their heads and retreat into the shadows, but not without throwing cautious glances my way.
They don’t understand what just happened. Neither do I.
Caspian exhales and turns to me.
I don’t move. I can’t move.
My body feels alien, my limbs too large, my senses too sharp.
Everything is too much.
The wind carries scents I’ve never notic
