Page 34 of The Panther's Price

Seraphine’s gaze flicked back to hers. “Evryn. Right. The girl with the mark. Yes, Lucien sent word about you a few day or so back.”

“And teeth,” Evryn said, voice cool.

Seraphine’s smile was faint, but it reached her eyes. “Good.”

Calder shifted slightly, finally stepping forward. His voice was deep. Slow. Measured.

“Show us.”

Evryn blinked. “What?”

“The Mark,” he clarified. “If you’re going to walk into the summit with our blood, we need to know it’sreal.”

Lucien moved before she could speak, stepping between them. “You’re not branding her like a prize mare.”

“She can speak for herself,” Seraphine said mildly.

Evryn exhaled, stepping around Lucien.

She tugged her collar wide enough to expose the left curve of her shoulder.

The Mark shimmered faintly, like light through smoked glass—then pulsed once, alive.

Calder’s brow twitched. Not in surprise. Recognition.

Seraphine inhaled slowly. “So it’s true.”

Evryn lowered her shirt again. “Apparently.”

Neither heir bowed. But both took a beat.

“Now what?” Evryn asked.

“That depends,” Seraphine said. “On how long you intend to keep dancing between two thrones that want you gutted.”

“I haven’t danced,” Evryn said. “I’verun.There’s a difference.”

Calder tilted his head. “And you’re done running?”

She looked at him.

Then at Lucien.

Then at the veil-carved sky overhead.

“Yes and no,” she said quietly. “I want to know what I’m runningtoward.”

Something shifted in Seraphine’s expression. Approval, maybe. Or respect.

“Then listen,” she said. “Because there’s more coming than just blades and banners. The Veil is thinning. Things that were sealed are waking. Bloodlines are calling each other across planes.”

“Something’s stirring,” Calder added. “Old forces. Magic that doesn’t answer to any House.”

Evryn’s chest tightened.

She couldfeelit. Like thunder still hidden in the clouds.

“Then why am I here?” she asked. “Why not let me disappear?”

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