The moonbeam fades slowly like the sky is exhaling. Like the magic that wrapped around my skin is peeling away with reluctance. My breath shakes. The room dims back into morning light filtering through the broken roof. LJ is still screaming into a couch cushion. Carter is clutching Draven’s shirt, glowing faintly, eyes wide and wet with unshed tears.
Draven doesn’t move. Not at first. He just… stares at me. Like I’m something holy he’s terrified to break. His silver eyes flicker— not bright, not dim— but full of something I’ve never seen before: Recognition. Awe. Instinct. The instinct hits him first. He tries—gods, he tries—not to respond to it. His back straightens.His shoulders tense. His hand grips tight around Carter like grounding.
He even mutters, “Not yet… she’s overwhelmed… don
