[: 3rd POV :]
As the chaos seemed inevitable, a firm hand gripped Caelira's wrist, halting her deadly movement just inches from the man's throat.
"Caelira, what are you doing?"
Melira's voice was steady yet commanding, her eyes cold and threatening.
The power in her grip communicated a strength far beyond mere physicality—a silent reminder of control and purpose.
Caelira's fingers trembled, her fury battling with the restraint forced upon her.
She glanced at Melira, torn between rage and reason.
Nearby, Kiel was frozen mid-motion, his hand inches from plunging into the leader's chest.
His father stepped forward swiftly, placing a heavy hand on his son's shoulder.
"Kiel, don't do anything foolish," he warned quietly but firmly.
Kiel's breath came fast, frustration and anger wrestling within him as he reluctantly withdrew.
Kaelgor caught his daughter's hand just as her claws extended, his grip strong but gentle.
