What prophecy?

Jason’s jaw clenched, his hand balling into fists like he was trying to hold himself together. For a moment, he looked like he might be sick. The silence between them stretched long and thick, neither of them knowing exactly how to bridge the gap. It wasn’t just uncomfortable anymore—it felt like there was something heavier, unspoken, settling between them. Eires's gaze never left his face, her mind racing as she tried to find the words to pull the truth out of him.

“Jason,” she said again, this time her voice firmer, but still gentle. She took a step toward him, her arms feeling oddly disconnected from her body as if her hands didn’t quite know where to go. “What prophecy?”