"You're trending," Ryvarn said as I stepped onto the balcony.
I shot him a look. “Seriously?”
He leaned against the stone railing, his gold eyes glinting with amusement. “Wolves are howling your name. Witches are whispering it like a spell. The dragons… well, they’ve stopped pretending you don’t exist.”
I exhaled, gripping the edge of the railing. The courtyard below was packed. Warriors. Elders. Curious eyes from all three realms. They didn’t chant. They didn’t cheer. They just watched. Like I was some storybook creature that crawled out of a legend and refused to die.
“They’re waiting,” I said quietly. “But for what?”
“For you to become what they think you already are.”
The trial mark on my chest still burned beneath my shirt. I hadn’t slept much since the Trial of Flame. The dream
