The chamber waited.
Not silently.
Expectantly.
Silver fire circled the covenant core in slow-burning rings above the obsidian throne while the opened seam beneath the seat pulsed with living light. The glow illuminated ancient markings carved beneath the throne itself -- symbols so old they seemed to belong to a civilization that existed before the empire learned how to call itself eternal.
Selene could feel the chamber listening.
Every breath she took echoed faintly through the throne memory now. The pressure beneath her ribs had become unbearable in its steadiness, no longer violent surges but a constant pull toward the throne at the center of the chamber.
The covenant wanted an answer.
Kael's hand remained against her cheek.
Warm.
Grounding.
The moment stretched longer than it should have.
