The atmosphere of the camp shifted from a heavy, suffocating silence to a frantic, bustling energy.
Felicity didn't just walk out of the portal; she practically danced, her golden tail swishing with a rhythmic, joyful bounce that made the bells in her hair chime like a celebration. She looked revitalized, glowing with the kind of radiance that only came from being thoroughly pampered and thoroughly claimed.
She reeked of her husband's. It wasn't just a faint scent; it was a heavy, intoxicating musk of oak, shadows, and rain that clung to her skin like a second layer. For the men of the Snow and Leaf teams, who were still reeling from those vivid, shared dreams where they had felt the phantom warmth of her presence, the scent was an absolute mental wrecking ball.
