As Adyr wrestled his bloodlust back under control, he shifted his focus outward, steadying his perception of everyone around him.
He might have the instincts of a predator, an unchecked hunger lurking in his nature, but beneath it all, he was still human—one who had mastered his emotions more thoroughly than most. Pulling himself back into that discipline wasn't difficult.
In a matter of moments, the oppressive, frigid tension in the room melted into a steady, reassuring warmth.
Rhys Graves felt it first. The daggers in his hands no longer felt so vital. His grip slackened, arms lowering as his rigid, wary stance eased without him realizing it.
The sharp, defensive glint in his eyes softened, transforming into something closer to cautious curiosity.
"What is this power?" Rhys muttered, his voice hushed as if uncertain he was even speaking aloud.
