Zara’s POV
The moment our hands joined, the chamber forgot how to be still.
Silver fire erupted through every carved seam in the floor. The seven statues blazed from within, cracks of light racing through stone bodies like veins awakening after centuries of sleep. Wind spiraled upward from nowhere, lifting my hair, my cloak, my patience.
I gripped Greyson’s hand harder.
“This feels unsafe.”
“It is,” he said calmly.
“Your calm is offensive.”
“It is practiced.”
Naturally. I hated that he can be so calm while i'm not.
The two symbols above the dais—the crown and the fang—began circling us faster and faster until they became rings of white light.
Then they plunged.
One struck my wrist mark.
The other hit the center of Greyson’s chest.
We both gasped.
Pain flashed sharp enough to
