Below them, the cultist tilted his head slightly, as if amused, before melting back into the dispersing crowd.
The robed figures around the fountain continued to preach as if nothing had happened.
Seren finally peeked up at him, confusion and fear in her bright green eyes. "Zayn... what was that...?"
Zayn didn't answer immediately.
His gaze remained locked on the crowd below, watching for any sudden movements, any signs that the cultists had noticed or cared about their sudden disappearance.
But no... the robed figures continued their sermon like mindless drones, hands raised to the sky, voices loud and zealous.
He let out a slow breath, setting Seren down gently on the rooftop. His mind raced.
This wasn't normal.
In the novel, the cult movements started subtly — whispers, small gatherings, not full-on public sermons like this.
And that cultist who looked at Seren... the way he looked at her...
"This is bad," Zayn muttered under his breath.
