The rain fell in sheets, drenching the war camp until it felt like the sky itself was weeping. Selina stood at the edge of the training grounds, watching the soldiers move through combat drills in the mud. Their movements were sharp, controlled—but underneath the precision, she sensed it.
Fear.
They all felt it.
The gods were stirring.
And the world no longer belonged to mortals alone.
“You haven’t slept,” Zane said quietly, stepping up beside her. His golden eyes were soft, but the new edge in his voice betrayed the storm within him. His recovery had been fast—too fast, Elira had whispered—but the power pulsing beneath his skin hadn’t faded.
Neither had the tether between them.
Selina turned her gaze toward the horizon. “Sleep feels useless when the sky might c***k open any second.
