Aurora's POV
The chamber did not breathe.
It waited.
After Catherine's words fell into the space between us, the witches did not move, did not whisper, did not so much as blink. Even the candles seemed to burn more carefully, their flames steady and disciplined, as though the room itself understood that whatever happened next would ripple far beyond stone and spell.
I held Catherine's gaze, refusing to look away.
She looked… whole.
Not healed. Not innocent. But assembled. Every sharp edge aligned with purpose, every fracture polished into resolve. This was not the sister I had left behind, terrified and unstable and drowning in power she couldn't control.
This was someone who had been taught exactly how dangerous she could be and had decided that was not something to be ashamed of.
"You don't get to decide that alone," I said finally, breaking the silence. My voice sounded steadier than I felt. "Not for the world. Not for yourself."
