The night had been a surreal blur of candlelight, velvet, and the kind of heavy, ancient power that Amara was finally starting to understand. On the dais, standing beside Darien, she had felt like more than just a girl from a cleaning department, she had felt like a part of something tectonic. His hand on her waist had been a warm, solid anchor in a sea of predatory gazes. For a few brief, shimmering minutes after his declaration, the world had felt stable. Terrifying, yes, but stable.
She had even begun to enjoy the taste of the deep red wine, the way it settled the nerves that had been frayed since she first stepped foot into Ispire Inc. as a simple intern. She watched the Beastmen below, some of the most powerful people in the world, lowering their heads in a show of grudging respect. It was a intoxicating, dangerous feeling.
