The dry sound of the gavel echoed one last time through the hall.
And, as if an invisible signal, the tension shifted.
Before, it was hungry anticipation. Now, it was possession.
Guards began to move discreetly around the stage. Nothing ostentatious—just enough to seem like protocol, not protection. The kind of security that only exists because someone very powerful has just acquired something they didn't intend to lose.
Damon followed every movement.
Two guards to the left of the cage, light armor with secondary containment runes. One behind the presenter, hand too close to the runic holster. And, above, on the upper balconies, at least three hidden observers—not auction guards, but the buyer's.
"He won't touch her here," Esther murmured, confirming what Damon already knew. "The transport must be underground. Probably straight to a mobile vault or sealed carriage."
Aria tilted her head slightly, feigning disinterest as she memorized the guards' movement pattern.
