Nyxara Rising
The air shifted around her, as if the room itself bowed to her presence.
Just her.
Brielle’s breath snagged in her chest, caught by fear and memory. She hated that—hated herself for it, hated the fragile hope she’d clung to that Nyxara wouldn’t really come. That there might still be a way out.
Nyxara looked different tonight. Not wild, not furious—calm. Unshakeable. Her eyes glowed a faint, chilling violet—controlled, distant, like she’d already mourned something Brielle hadn’t even lost yet. There was an old pain in those eyes, something ancient and cold, as if she’d already watched this ending a thousand times.