The moment my fingers touched the lid, the box pulsed beneath my skin—heat without fire, memory without thought. It didn’t burn, but it branded something deep inside me, as if the box knew my blood better than I did. Angela stood silent beside me, the torchlight flickering over her face like it, too, held its breath. The seal glowed gold, then cracked with a soft hiss, and the lid shifted open with the weight of centuries. Inside was no weapon, no scroll, no talisman—just a ring. A simple, uncut stone set in an obsidian band, its center pulsing with the same golden light I’d seen under my skin. I stared at it, expecting more—expecting answers, fury, fire—but the silence was heavier than before. I reached in and lifted it with both hands, as if it might crumble, or explode, or scream. But it only pulsed once in my palm… and then sank into my skin. “Selena—” Angela stepped forward as the ring vanished entirely, absorbed without pain, without resistance. A rush of heat spread through m
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