Page 82 of The Panther's Price

The Accords had kept the bloodlines separate.

Claws ruled the central dominion. The other Houses—Bearclan, Dragonflame, Sablewing—were granted territories, stripped of thrones, and warned never to challenge Umbraclaw again. In return, they were allowed autonomy. Trade. Shadows of influence. Never voice.

Never power.

Until now.

Evryn stood tall on the steps of the dais, her voice cutting through the heavy hush like a blade made of light and thunder.

“We are not just Claws anymore,” she said. “We are not a kingdom born of bloodlines and borders.”

A ripple of gasps. Frowns. One elder stumbled backward.

But Evryn pressed forward, her panther-marked eyes scanning the crowd.

“We will not rule by fear, nor isolation. The Veil belongs to all who bleed within it—and so, this throne will no longer silence the voices of the Dragonflame, the Bearclan, or the Sablewing.”

She turned her gaze deliberately to the pillars framing the hall—where Seraphine Drakar stood like fire incarnate, Calder Grimhart stood like a carved mountain, and Malrik Sablewing shimmered with memory-shadow, eyes unreadable.

“You will have a voice,” Evryn said. “A seat. Equal say in law and future. The Accords are broken. The dominion isshared.”

The silence shattered.

It wasn’t applause.

It wasn’t outrage.

It was a moment too stunned for reaction, shock hanging like stormclouds over the court’s heart.

Lucien didn’t move.

He couldn’t.

He stood near the outer ring of the chamber, hands behind his back, jaw tight.

This was history breaking open.

And he’d followed her into it. Helped carve the path with blood and steel.

But now… she was standing alone.

Not because she wanted to.

But because she believed she had to.

Evryn’s voice softened now, not in power but in intimacy.

“The old ways gave us war,” she said. “And monsters. And silence when we needed justice. That dies with the last queen.”

Her eyes, goddess-bright—swept the hall again.

“The new reign begins today. Not of blood. Not of shadow. But oftruth.”

And in that moment, Lucien thought, she was everything the Veil needed.

And still…she wasn’this.

Later, the crowd broke into clusters. Courtiers murmured in corners, voices tight with nerves and newfound hope. Envoys from the other Houses conferred in low tones, already negotiating the fragile beginnings of this new era.

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