Both lines of guards tensed.
Misha did not move.
Varos looked from the blade to the woman holding it.
For the first time since entering Elias, his smile was gone.
Varos stared at her for a long moment, measuring something far beyond the blade aimed at his throat. Then, slowly, he stepped forward.
Every guard in Elias shifted.
Every Urella soldier tightened their grip.
Misha’s cane lifted half an inch from the stone.
Camron moved beside Azaliyah without being asked, sword angled low, eyes dragging once over the fury in her stance, the glow in her hands, the blade leveled like judgment itself. “I’m not gonna lie,” he murmured under his breath, voice meant mostly for her, “this version of you is doing something for me.”
Azaliyah didn’t look at him. “Keep talking and I’ll do something
