Leon took a step toward them, and the space between them seemed to shrink with that single movement. The mountain air was cool, carrying the faint scent of stone and open sky, but the warmth radiating from both women was palpable.
Ira's chest rose and fell with a slightly quicker breath. Her hands were at her sides, but her fingers twitched — the same way they did when she was preparing for a fight, but softer, anticipatory in a different way.
Seraphine's composure held, but her eyes had darkened slightly. She knew this routine. She knew what came next. And she welcomed it.
Leon didn't speak right away. He let the silence stretch, let the tension build naturally. The house behind them stood quiet, waiting. The dimensional world's ambient light cast everything in a soft, eternal twilight.
Then he moved.
