The Silver Stag thrummed around me—alive in the way that made everything inside my ribs feel too tight.
Stone walls curved inward like the ribs of something ancient and long-dead, runes beating along the grain like veins of light. Old Accord wards pulsed under every surface, tempering dominance spikes and heartbreak crashes before they could erupt into full-blown chaos. Antler-shaped lanterns cast golden heat across timber beams, silverleaf moss swayed overhead like it breathed with the music, and the scent—cedar smoke, fresh bread, magic-heavy florals—hit thick in the back of my throat.
The room moved as one body. Wolves, fae, even a Drakonis heir whose scales caught firelight like molten glass—everyone shifting to the enchanted band in the corner. A lute floated on invisible threads, s
