(LIAM'S POV)
The words hung in the air, heavy and raw.
I expected Dylan or Roland to argue with me, to defend their goddess, to tell me I was wrong. But instead, Dylan just looked at me with those warm, understanding eyes.
"You don't have to believe in her, Liam," he said gently. "I'm not asking you to have faith. I'm just telling you what we know to be true. She is real, whether you believe in her or not."
I opened my mouth to retort, but Roland spoke first.
"Let me tell you about the first time I saw Dylan," he said, his voice soft and distant, like he was lost in a memory.
I turned to look at him. His silver-blue eyes were focused on some point in the distance, a soft smile playing on his lips.
Here's a cooler, more immersive version:
"I was standing in a hall packed with powerful men, discussing borders, territories, and the fate of entire lands. The conversation was serious, every word carrying weight.
Then Dylan walked in.
