C115 THE SELECTED DAY OF THE FLAMES

The silence after Elara’s declaration was not peace.

It was pressure.

A crushing, choking weight that pressed against the realm itself, dragging walls of flame inward as if the world were holding its breath.

Damon stared at her.

The First Heir glanced at her.

Even the Throne’s runes dimmed—as though every force in existence drew closer to listen.

Elara felt the weight of every stare