The front hall remained heavy with unspoken tension, the faint pulse of Nova's aura still radiating softly against the cold stone floors. Even in the quiet, the air felt charged, like the valley itself had paused in anticipation.
Ronan stood perfectly still, silent as a predator, his amber eyes never leaving Kai. His presence was magnetic and suffocating at once, like wind gathering before a storm. The family moved cautiously around him, instinctively giving him space that felt both respectful and necessary.
Kai's tail flicked nervously, brushing against the floor with a low thrum. He couldn't speak, couldn't trust himself to make coherent sentences, yet every instinct screamed at him to move closer—or run. His past was a living, aching weight pressed against his ribs.
"Pup," Ronan said again, voice low, smooth, and carrying the absolute authority of a lifetime of leadership. "Do you feel it? The shift?"
