The crowd roared in approval.
Females sighed dreamily, some even collapsing dramatically against their friends.
Thalina rolled her eyes. Seriously?
But before she could react, Zorath moved.
Unlike Tharion, there was no careful buildup.
No calculated performance.
Just pure, reckless chaos.
He stepped into the circle with the same lazy swagger he always carried, rolling his shoulders like he'd just woken up from a nap. His golden eyes glinted mischievously, lips curving into something wicked.
And then—
He exploded into motion.
Not a shift. Not a smooth transition.
One moment, he was standing there.
The next, a massive, midnight-black jaguar launched itself into the air, soaring over the crowd.
Gasps rippled through the city square as Zorath twisted mid-air, his powerful limbs moving with a wild, unpredictable grace. His sleek fur caught the torchlight, glistening like ink as he flipped effortlessly, tail curling to adjust his trajectory.
And then—
He didn't land.
