His gaze lifted to the shadows.
Where Wish was hiding.
Their eyes locked.
Even across the distance, even with torches blazing between them, Wish felt the impact like a physical blow. His mismatched eyes—silver and grey, predatory and knowing—pinned her in place.
He smiled. Slow and dangerous.
Then he started walking.
Not toward Nyla. Not toward Kali. Not toward any of the candidates standing in the light.
Toward the shadows. Toward her.
No. No, he can't—this isn't how it goes, he's supposed to choose Nyla, he's supposed to be drawn to her aura, by her innocence—
But he was coming closer. Each step deliberate, purposeful. The crowd parted for him like he was cutting through water.
The murmuring started, confused whispers rippling through the stands. Warriors didn't choose people hiding in the shadows, let alone deities. They chose from the candidates who presented themselves.
