Sylvara could only stare, jaw hanging open in disbelief, as Damon vanished beneath the black water, leaving only ripples that quickly settled into an eerie stillness. His final words lingered in the frozen air, as if mocking her with their casual farewell.
Around her, the rest of the clan exchanged uncertain glances, their expressions a mix of confusion, embarrassment, and seething rage. Some muttered under their breath, others simply stared at the pool as though a monster might suddenly jump out from within it.
Sylvara's hands trembled at her sides, her fists clenched so tightly that her nails bit into her palms. The sheer arrogance of that man!
Even after everything, after her grandfather's warning, after her own grudging acceptance of his importance, he'd found a way to spit on their legacy, to mock their every effort.
And yet… She couldn't deny the way he moved in the cold water, the casual ease with which he shrugged off its bone-chilling bite. He was undeniably powerful!
