The air was thick with unspeakable quiet.
It was a stillness so profound it suffocated every breath, every thought. The kind of quiet that curled into your lungs and made you forget you had a voice. Selamira knelt in that quiet, shaking.
She had known.
In the deepest corners of her soul, buried beneath layers of devotion, duty, and purpose, she had known.
Ever since he'd transformed her.
Ever since he'd whispered salvation and offered her power for the sake of the humans, for the sake of saving them all from destruction.
He had never lied. But he had never told the truth either.
And she had been a willing blade.
Her breath shuddered from between clenched teeth as she sat still under his gaze. Her master's touch lingered against her cheek- cold, velvet-soft, and ancient. She shivered.
But still… still she raised her head.
Her throat trembled with the effort, with the weight of everything crashing into her at once. Yet her gaze rose. Brave. Broken.
