Damon POV
“You brought her here?” Maela shot to her feet, chair scraping across stone. Her dark braid snapped over her shoulder like a whip. “A royal-blooded reject? That’s what you dragged into our camp like a stray?”
“She’s not a stray,” I growled, stepping into the circle of firelight. “She’s the prophecy.”
Gasps rippled around the table like a sudden wind. Even Riven blinked, his calm facade cracking.
Kael just exhaled sharply and muttered, “Finally.”
“She’s unstable,” Maela snapped, but her voice lacked the usual venom. It sounded like fear now - cold, creeping fear. “If what you’re saying is true, then she’s dangerous.”
“She’s already been hunted, rejected, starved, and left for dead,” I said. “She’s still standing. Still fighting.”
“Which makes her unpredictable.”
I leaned
