The jaguars in the clearing were not warriors.
Bai Yue realized it in the space between one heartbeat and the next, the way their ribs showed through their fur, the way their eyes were dull with exhaustion, the way they flinched when the cubs stumbled forward. These were not the mercenaries who had hunted them through the jungle. These were survivors. Shadows. Ghosts of the proud clan Tao Zi's parents had once ruled.
An old jaguar woman stepped forward, her fur patchy, her left arm ending in a scarred stump. She squinted at Tao Zi, her weathered face crumpling.
"The mark on his tunic," she whispered. "That is the crest of the Jade Jaguar royal line."
Other voices rose behind her, trembling, disbelieving.
"The cub—"
"—those eyes—"
"—it can't be—"
"—after all these years—"
The old woman dropped to her knees in the mud. "Is that... the heir?"
Tao Zi pressed closer to Bai Yue's leg. His small hand found hers and squeezed.
