The silence that followed Lyra’s humming was heavier than any threat. It was the weight of a paradigm shifting. Greywind, the Alpha, no longer looked at them as mere supplicants or potential threats. He looked at Lyra as a force of nature, and at Ren as a contained storm that required a specific, delicate pressure to remain in check. The Shaman’s milky eyes held a satisfied gleam, as if a long-held theory had just been proven correct.
Kael watched it all from the periphery, his arms crossed so tightly his muscles ached. He felt like a stone in a river, unmoving while the current of incomprehensible power flowed around him. He had spent years honing his skills, trusting his blade, his instincts, his ability to read a battlefield. Here, the battlefield was made of whispers, of resonant freq
