As soon as Callie led Max out of the hut, a deep silence settled over the small wooden room.
Only Klaus and the Old Saintess remained, the weight of what had just happened still lingering in the air.
Klaus let out a long breath, running a hand through his hair.
"That was nerve-wracking."
His usual composure was nowhere to be found.
Instead, his hands still trembled slightly, a lingering effect of the suppression that had forced them to their knees.
Even after Max had withdrawn his bloodline pressure, the feeling hadn't left.
"Even after he withdrew the suppression, I could still 'feel' it."
His voice was low, almost a whisper.
"My instincts kept screaming at me, telling me to submit… That wasn't just powerful—it was 'unnatural'."
He turned toward the Old Saintess, expecting to find her usual composed wisdom.
But—
She was staring into space, her expression dark, distant.
A look he had rarely—if ever—seen from her.
Klaus's frown deepened.
"What's wrong?"
