She said nothing, but her gaze stayed locked on the forming pattern.
Evelyn didn't speak, didn't shift her posture, didn't raise her aura—but Ethan could feel it all the same. She had noticed it.
She had recognized something in what he'd done. And while she didn't say a word, her stillness was an acknowledgment.
Not the result.
Of the origin.
Everly, standing just a step behind him with her hands on her hips and her weight cocked to one side, leaned forward slightly and grinned.
"Okay," she whispered, voice low but bright with amusement, "that's hot."
Velrin didn't react—at least, not right away.
But something subtle flickered behind her eyes. A shift.
Not approval, not emotion. Just the faintest tension in her jaw, like a quiet answer had been spoken to a question she hadn't realized she was asking until that moment.
"Withdraw your fragment," she said calmly.
Ethan did as he was told. The pressure slipped away from his skin and nerves like fog lifting off water.
