The Vethara moved like something that had never needed to hurry.
Not fast — purposeful. The specific economy of a predator that has hunted long enough to know that speed is a tool, not a default. It crossed the courtyard flagstones with the heavy patience of a thing that had made this move a hundred times in a hundred different configurations and had learned every variation.
I moved.
Not toward it — sideways, drawing its line of approach away from the compound door and the corridor where Cole had taken Kira. The courtyard was open space. Open space was mine to use.
The Vethara adjusted.
Still unhurried. Still certain.
*You cannot run from the claim,* it said into the bloodline frequency. *The line is the line. It does not matter how far the heir goes. It does not matter what she buil
