The daybreak was windless, but something in the air still stirred.
Dust clung to the world like breath held too long.
Sofia stood in front of him, her silhouette painted in morning fire. The rising sun caught in her hair, turning it into a crown of flame, and for a moment—just a moment—Xiuhcoatl thought she looked like something the gods would have knelt for.
He didn’t move.
Didn’t speak.
He just looked at her like she was a vision that might vanish if he dared to blink.
And then, finally, he said, “I’ve made a decision.”
Sofia’s breath caught. “About what?”
His voice was soft—but beneath it, steel. The voice of a man used to command. The voice of a god.
“If you come with me—if you stand at my side—I will spare the Moon Pack. Your family. Your blood.”
Her heart kicked once in her
