Cornelia did not speak after Elder Achilor gave his permission.
She only nodded once, slowly, as if sealing her decision in that single motion, and then she lowered herself with care, her movements steady despite the countless eyes fixed on her, until she finally sat upon the surface of the transformed palm.
The moment she settled, the entire structure seemed to react again, not violently this time, but in a way that felt heavy and alive, as if it had accepted her presence fully, as if it was now ready to reveal something that had been waiting.
The arena held its breath.
No one spoke.
No one dared to interrupt.
Even the faint sounds of movement ceased, leaving behind only the quiet pulse of energy that spread from the palm and into the air, pressing against every vampire present.
Then—
A drop of blood appeared.
It formed above her head, hanging in the air for a brief moment, glowing with a deep crimson light that seemed far richer than anything they had seen before.
